


William it was really nothing

by Patron-Saint (freddieseyeliner)



Series: Blood from Hell in my veins [2]
Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: Alternate Universe - Vampire, Blood, Catholic Guilt, Found Family, Guilt, M/M, Mutual Pining, Pining, Violence, also vampire way brothers!, burnout punks are best friends and go on an adventure together, gratuitous smoking, overly poetic descriptions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-10
Updated: 2020-11-25
Packaged: 2021-03-06 04:35:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 35,781
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25817395
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/freddieseyeliner/pseuds/Patron-Saint
Summary: Salvation is in the dangerous.And it was dangerous.Every time their hips brushed and arms drew around each other they were reminded. Reminded of urgent hands and wet mouths. Of fire and teeth and highways with no speed limits.Was it better to reminisce or forget? Romeo would say forget. Juliet would say reminisce. It seemed tragic means had tragic ends..Part of the Blood from Hell in my veins series. Must read Is it true I bear the mark of Cain first.
Relationships: Frank Iero/Gerard Way
Series: Blood from Hell in my veins [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1780069
Comments: 103
Kudos: 85





	1. Wake me up in 17 years with a margarita

**Author's Note:**

> I'm back! I know it's been a month since I finished the last fic and I honestly couldn't tell you what I've been doing. 
> 
> Mikey, Frank, Gerard and Ray are all living in Frank's grandma's old house. Three weeks have passed since the last fic and they're currently researching the cure. 
> 
> I like to call this chapter Pining with a side of Guilt :D Enjoy!

Frank had tried to quit smoking exactly one time in his life.

His father, Frank Senior, had died when Frank was 21 from lung cancer. He watched as his mother sobbed over an oak casket and then prompty threw away his own pack of cigarettes in the church’s bathroom garbage.

His eyes started to twitch and his fingers felt swollen at the tips. Wool scratched along his gums and his head felt impossibly heavy. It felt like cherubs were playing softball in his brain.

He never really knew his dad. A few hockey games on the weekend and crashing on his couch in highschool when he was drunk and knew his mum would yell at him if he went back to her house. His dad let him drink. His dad let him skip school. His dad let him smoke _._

He probably wasn’t a very good dad, looking back now. 

That was okay. He wasn’t a very good son.

He cut through the crowd of mourners and relative disbelievers half way through Father Pensinato’s speech. He hadn’t even made it to the part about Angels delivering his soul. Frank figured it didn’t matter- _he_ wouldn’t need to know. It wasn’t going to be Angels coming for Frank’s soul anyways. Whispers writhed into his ears as he strod out. _Poor Frankie too overcome with sadness to watch any longer. Just him and his mum now. He must be so lonely._

Frank _was_ lonely.

His salvation sat at the bottom of the trash barrel. He moved still damp paper towels and snotty tissues until he found the discarded carton of cigarettes. He pulled out his lighter and looked himself in the bathroom mirror. 

_Couldn’t even make it 45 minutes. What a fuck up._

Smoke filled up the empty spaces around him and he didn’t feel nearly so alone anymore. 

\---

Things were normal now.

The memory drifted from Frank’s mind with the smoke of the cigarette Gerard passed him. 

They both smoked heavily but more often than not they shared. Passing the lit cigarette between the the two of them like teenagers in a park.

Frank always bitched about the way Gerard chewed up the tip of it.

Gerard always bitched about the way Frank let the end get saturated with saliva. 

Neither of them would’ve given up the way their fingers brushed as they exchanged the cigarette for the world.

Frank thought of his shaking hands and racing mind when he’d last tried to quit an addiction. Trying to quit Gerard was a million times worse than that.

He felt like they were comatose- suspended in time. They wanted each other and they both knew it. They knew it in gruff _good morning_ voices. They knew it in the moonlight reflection of saliva coated lips. They knew it in winds and warm bodies. They knew it in forgotten scarves and lead pencil portraits. They knew it in metallic scents and forgotten innocence. They knew it. But they couldn't have it.

Gerard was scared and guilt ridden. He cut off what he perceived to be Frank's rotting flesh at the source- himself. He thought himself more poisonous than a prophet to Lady Macbeth, than flies to Elektra, than fire to Joan. Frank had gotten hurt and it was his fault- at least in his mind it was his fault. He'd spare no room for calm debate or facts of the matter. _Frank was hurt and he did it._

Like dying men they'd allow themselves small pleasures if the moonlight tinted just blue enough. They came in brushed fingers and shared books. In smudged ink and wandering eyes. They came late at night in separate beds.

They savoured their time together like good wine. Unfortunately it was how an alcoholic enjoys good wine- too fast and too obsessed.

Mikey looked onto their little displays with the annoyance of a younger brother who was trying not to let the sadness crack through his expression. Ray regarded them with a forlorn sort of smile. The smile of a man who knew what it was like to be happy. Once upon a time, anyways.

I had been three weeks since they found the journal with the cure. It had been three weeks since Frank had last kissed Gerard (and it really was the last time). It had been three weeks since hope was resurrected and romance died. 

It had been two weeks since Sweet Pea died. Her little body had finally given out to the tumours in her stomach and lungs. She died in Frank’s lap. Despite his devastation he was happy to know she wasn’t in pain anymore. The house seemed too quiet without her though. Ray had even caught Mikey crying; he had insisted it was allergies and wore sunglasses for the next three days.

Ray, Mikey and Gerard had helped Frank set up a funeral. The best four men in their early and mid twenties could do was a shoebox buried in the frozen Jersey earth and a bunch of wildflowers held together with an old beer tab. 

Ray took a photo of the flowers and half broken china plate they’d shoved into the unforgiving late October ground as a gravemarker with his polaroid camera. “It’s beautiful.” 

The brothers’ Way nodded solemnly. 

Frank’s fingers itched for a cigarette.

\---

They had fallen into a routine of sorts.

The winds of October had brought a permanent overcast sky. Great swaths of darkened grey, and the occasional purple streak, rumbled through the air far above the sole victorian house and ancient pines.

Ray was the first to rise.

He would flip on the coffee maker and then stumble back upstairs for a shower. After pulling on a soft sweater, and jeans he wished had fewer holes, he would phone home. He chatted with his sisters as they got ready for school and he ate cereal. When they hung up to catch their bus he would say goodbye to normalcy and flip open the latin dictionary and leather bound journal.

Around then Mikey would creak down from the attic, hair going in a million directions, wearing dangerously low pajama bottoms and what Ray always assumed to be a t shirt from the teenage girl section of Walmart. He knew just enough Latin to know the journal spoke of a cure but not enough to translate it helpfully. He would pour coffee for Ray and himself and they would work, word by word, letter by letter, through the pages.

It was frustrating work. Knowing there was a cure but being stalled in their journey until they could figure out what it actually called for. Like a block of ice staying impossibly frozen in the desert, it was annoying as shit.

As far as Ray and Mikey were concerned what happened next was as follows: Frank would wake up, get dressed, brush his teeth, go upstairs to the attic, wake up Gerard and they would walk down together. Then Mikey would go back upstairs and change into something other than pajamas. The four of them would then replenish their coffee and divide up sections of the journal to translate and work throughout the day until they were all cross eyed and in need of beer and loud music. Then they would go to bed and do it all again tomorrow.

The last three sentences were true.

What really happened next was as follows: Frank would wake up, get dressed, brush his teeth, go upstairs to the attic, wake up Gerard and they would lay in his bed together. 

The first time it happened was the morning after Sweet Pea died. 

Frank had just woken Gerard and was about to turn to descend the stairs when a cold hand caught his wrist. Gerard studied his red rimmed eyes and the puffiness in his face. His lips looked nearly split and his eyelashes were wet with tears. Gerard couldn’t help the way his heart clutched as the sight. Frank was his friend. Friends comforted friends. 

“Come’re Frankie.” His voice was still gravelly from sleep.

Without hesitation Frank slid under the covers and let Gerard slide his arm around his waist. 

It felt like coming home after a long bout of rain. It felt like falling asleep after ten cups of coffee. It felt like a nectarine on desolation row. It felt like relief.

The following morning they balanced on a tightrope they’d strung up themselves. 

Frank’s hand lingered on Gerard’s shoulder after shaking him awake. Gerard looked at him like Ophelia did a lake. 

A pause.

A pause.

A pause.

And then-

Frank moved like molasses into the bed, not meeting Gerad’s gaze until they were both laying down, nose to nose. _Salvation in the dangerous._

And it was dangerous.

Everytime their hips brushed and arms drew around eachother they were reminded. Reminded of urgent hands and wet mouths. Of fire and teeth and highways with no speed limits. 

Was it better to reminisce or forget? Romeo would say forget. Juliet would say reminisce. It seemed tragic means had tragic ends.

But they kept their word. Touches remained innocent and they found nothing but warmth and old memories in Gerard’s bed. 

They were friends. Just friends.

\---

This morning was a particularly cold one. 

“Can I?” 

Frank shoved his face into Gerard’s neck, ignoring his words to chase a couple more minutes of sleep until-

A cold hand snaked up his stomach underneath his shirt. A soft sigh left Gerard’s parted lips as he leaned into the warmth. 

Frank recoiled like Gerard had slapped him. It felt too similar. It felt like three weeks ago. It felt like sparrows before the winter. It felt like vampires before dawn. 

Sad eyes met Frank’s own as Gerard realized what he’d done. The dregs of longing tugged at them briefly before Frank rolled out of bed.

“We should-”

“Yeah.”

A tightrope indeed.

The grey light that filtered into the room as they descended upon the coffee maker in the kitchen erased any woes. 

(Most woes) 

(Some woes)

Things were going well. They all enjoyed eachother’s company and had found an easy rhythm. One that filled Frank with more hope than he’d ever felt in the city. He could tell Gerard, Mikey and Ray felt the same way. They were wrapping up the journal- only a few chapters left now. And from what they could tell it seemed legitimate so far.

“How’s it feel?”

Ray’s voice cut through Frank’s coffee haze and fear struck him. Some irrational part of his mind wanted to believe that Ray knew about him and Gerard spending more time together. Knew about Gerard’s hand on Frank’s chest this morning. _How’s it feel?_ Like falling, Frank would’ve answered. Instead he just replied, “huh?”

“Com’on man! Last day of 23! How’s it feel?”

Frank’s eyes flitted to the calender. Today was October 30th. _Huh._

“Normal, I guess?” He sat across from Ray, next to Gerard. 

“You normally spend your time researching cures for vampirism? And here I was thinking we were special.” Mikey’s eyes never left the page he was reading. Frank didn’t need to see his face to know he was rolling his eyes.

“It’s your Birthday tomorrow?! And you didn’t tell me- us?!” Gerard jerked their shared cigarette away from Frank with an agape expression. 

“Honetly, I didn’t even realize it was so late in the month. Gimme the-” Gerard fixed him with an expression that clearly said _I’ve been betrayed_ and continued sucking on the cigarette. 

Frank reached over and plucked it from between Gerard’s lips who caught his wrist half way back to his mouth. Frank thought about the way his fingers felt on this chest this morning. Their eyes locked and neither seemed ready to give up.

Ray cleared his throat. “Anyways, we’re totally throwing a party!”

“And inviting?” Mikey raised an eyebrow at Ray. “All the other _delightful folks_ who live in the world’s creepiest forest?”

“It will be fun with just us!” Ray protested. “Look, I’ll tell you where I hid your blender _and_ you can play two Pulp songs.”

“Blender, four Pulp songs and two Blur.”

“Three Pulp, one Blur.”

“Deal.”

“And we’re dressing up.”

“No!” 

“Yes!” Gerard’s delighted voice rang out. Frank took advantage of his distraction and broke their grasp, jerking the cigarette into his mouth. He rolled his tongue over the chewed out end. 

Frank couldn’t help but join in on Ray and Gerard’s laughter at Mikey’s disgust. “Please tell me you’re gunna dress up as a vampire?”

Mikey groaned and put his hands over his face.

After much debate it was decided they would forgo dressing up as long as Frank and Gerard would make a trip into town tonight to buy scary movies.

They plodded away diligently at their translations for the rest of the day, slowing building up a behemoth of other errands they needed to run while they were in town. The messily written list so far included:

**Mikey’s contact lense prescription** (Gerard had scrawled **_Who are you trying to impress?_** With a stick figure drawing of a man with curly hair next to it. Mikey had prompt crossed this out as a blush raised on his cheeks)

**Food ←- Not just poptarts** (Frank’s writing graced the page next **_Fine we’ll get potato chips as well_** _)_

**Vegetables** ( **_Alright, Mom_ ** _)_

**Beer** ( **_Lots of beer_ ** _)_

**Duct tape** ( **_Creep…._ ** _) (_ **_It’s for fixing the furnace!_ ** _) (_ **_Sure._ ** _)_

**Movies**

**First Aid Kit** ( **_Don’t think we need one?_ ** _)_

Ray cut Frank a look as he continued vandalizing his list. He poked Frank in the still sore ribs with an _I told you so_ sort of expression.

“Ow!” 

Gerard’s face clouded and he muttered sorry under his breath.

Ray looked guilty for bringing it up.

“Fine.”

\----

A few hours, and much negotiating regarding party supplies later, Frank and Gerard were sat in his car with $50 from his Grandma’s safe. He wondered if she was in Heaven bitching about him blowing her money on shitty food and alcohol.

As he revved the engine a vacuum seemed to fill the car. It was just him and Gerard. It struck Frank then how odd it was they’d never actually _gone_ anywhere together. 

_Almost like a date_ his very unhelpful brain supplied. He slapped the thought away the best he could.

Gerard slid a lit cigarette between Frank’s lips and he almost choked. _Fuck._

“It’s nice to leave the forest.” Gerard’s voice sounded far away and Frank wondered when the last time he’d been anywhere else was. 

“I mean, you _can_ leave? Right? Like, you don’t have to stay in the forest?”

Billie Joe’s voice filled up the car and Frank was starting to think he wouldn’t answer.

Gerard rolled down the window and let his fingers dance through the chilled air. Eventually he turned to Frank.

“We could leave, sure. But it’s not that simple. We can’t go into any building unless we’re invited and humans aren’t exactly dying to do that-”

“Shit. Right. Sorry.” Frank felt like a total ass now.

“Plus there’s always a chance of running into someone you used to know when you were alive, so.”

“I’ll invite you into places.”

“I know.” Gerard’s voice finally warmed then. “I know.”

“If we see anyone you know I’ll totally cover for you.”

“What? Suddenly you’re James Bond? Do tell how you’re going to hide me.” Gerard tried to stifle a giggle.

“I’d, uh,” Frank’s face was growing hot under Gerard’s gaze. All he could imagine was dragging Gerard behind some dumb display of magazines or DVDs or something and making out with him. That would _technically_ cover his face. But those were definately not platonic friend thoughts. “I don’t know.”

“See? You’d make a terrible spy!” He poked Frank in the leg and savoured the few seconds of warmth. 

“Oh like you’d be sooooo great! You can’t even function without your morning coffee and I’ve seen you fall down the stairs at least twice.”

“They sneak up on me sometimes!”

“Is that a direct quote from 007 himself, or?”

“I’m revoking your cigarette privileges.” 

They broke the town line as Gerard threw the nearly finished cigarette out the window. He was basically bouncing in his seat.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m excited we get to party on your birthday is all. It’s normal. It’s nice.” A real, proper, smiled cracked over Gerard’s face and Frank lamented his lost time. He’d taken so much shit forgranted that Gerard would’ve killed (not literally) for. Hanging out with friends, going to bars, hell, even having a job. 

Gerard let his eyes wander to the side. Hues of yellow and blown out purple still kept residence on Frank’s neck. The shorter man winced everytime they drove over a pothole (which was often; it was a Jersey town after all); his ribs clearly still hurt. His excitement wanned as guilt washed over him. He tried to hide the expression. 

Him and Frank had had it out about a hundred times at this point. The conversation always boiled down to the same thing. Frank forgave him. Gerard didn’t accept that. 

So he had to live in the shadows. In the stolen glances. In the small touches. He couldn’t let himself have Frank after what he’d done- because of what he was. But he couldn’t handle the tie being severed completely. He couldn’t breathe without the cigarette from Frank’s fingers. He couldn’t see without Frank’s stares when he thought he wasn’t looking. He couldn’t feel without Frank pressed up against him in the mornings. He knew it wasn’t fair; to still want him. To still take little pieces of him after Gerard said he wouldn’t. But he was a man with an addiction. He needed his fix.

He pretended to brush something off Frank’s pants and let his hand settle on his upper thigh much longer than was appropriate for friends. He watched Frank’s adams apple bob as they pulled into the parking lot of the convenience store. He retracted his hand.

“Ready?”

He smiled despite himself.

“Hell yeah!”

Turning the corner to retrieve the last item on their list Frank lost track of Gerard. He tossed the Poptarts in the cart and started to scour the isles for Gerard. He did not want to have to explain to Mikey how he’d lost his brother on his first trip back into town.

His pale form was fairly easy to spot amongst the camo clad, sun tanned locals. Frank raised an eyebrow as Gerard dumped an armful of items into the cart.

“I haven’t been shopping in like, a year, Frank. Cut me some slack!”

Frank eyed the blue hair dye but ended up plucking the black nail varnish from the cart instead. 

Gerard took his interest as disapproval. 

“I know no one’s gunna even see it. I just miss it is all.”

“Miss what?”

“Being a person. I miss shopping with my mum, drawing in the cafe, painting my nails, I even miss getting beat up _for painting my nails.”_

Frank snorted. “I know the feeling.” He thought of all the shitty older guys in his school who would, at best, tease him mercilessly for painting his nails and, on one memorable occasion, bleaching his hair and dying it pink. Even Frank would admit that may have been a dumb idea in a small conservative town. What he wouldn’t admit was that was _why_ he’d done it. 

Gerard picked up his hand in near wonder. “I’ll paint them tonight for you. Only if you want though.” He rushed out.

“Yeah, I would like that.”

An old lady cleared her throat loudly behind them and Gerard dropped his hand and buried the nail varnish at the bottom of their cart. 

Frank muttered _get fucked_ under his breath which made Gerard laugh.

The drive back was easy. Too easy. They joked and blasted The Misfits over the crappy radio. Frank looked over at Gerard with his feet up on the dashboard and the street lights glinting off his hair. 

Why’d they have to go and make things so complicated?

\----

Their arrival brought on a cacophony of action. 

Mikey snatched his contact lenses from their bags and began the task of trying to jab them into his eyes. 

Ray bitched about the movies they chose and the lack of actual vegetables.

Gerard made off with the hair dye to the bathroom and locked the door before anyone could stop him.

Frank zeroed in on the Poptarts and promptly ate half the box. He figured it was close enough to his birthday that he could do whatever he wanted.

Frank layed down on his bed to read for a bit after they’d all dispersed. It had been a long day and his ribs still ached like a bitch.

Rest didn’t seem to be in the cards for him as a shy vampire appeared at his door. Gerard hadn’t entered his room since That Day. He lingered at the doorway and cleared his throat until Frank looked over.

Gerard was shirtless with a now teal stained towel around his shoulders. It occurred to Frank then that he’d never seen Gerard shirtless before. 

“Could you, uh, help with the back?” He held up a bottle of unnaturally hued dye.

“Sure. Yeah. Totally.” It took all of Frank’s self control not to throw his book down and sprint to the bathroom with Gerard.

He set the book down gently and followed at an acceptable, totally not desperate, pace. 

The fluorescent lights cast teasing shadows and seemed to illuminate Frank’s lip ring.

“Just cover the back with it.” He jerked the bottle towards Frank.

“Dude I’m pretty sure this is just colouring your roots. The rest still looks black.” He picked up a sopping strand of hair near Gerard’s face who swatted it away. Gerard’s face looked pretty in the bathroom light. _Gerard_ looked pretty in the bathroom light. His pale skin seemed to beg for Frank’s hands on it and he was having a hard time not complying. 

“Look, I totally know what I’m doing. Just listen to me.” Frank rolled his eyes and manouvered himself behind Gerard. 

The bottle made a squelching noise and Gerard craned his neck around. “You have to hold it at the _right angle_.”

“You have to hold your _head at the right angle.”_ Frank mimicked back. He threaded his fingers through the taller man’s hair and tugged until Gerard’s head was in the right positon again. 

He worked silently but found himself getting more and more annoyed as Gerard’s eyes bore into the bruises on his neck.

Frank angrily worked the rest of the dye into Gerard’s hair. 

“Can you fucking stop?”

“Stop what?”

“Staring at my neck like some sort of martyr?”

“I _hurt you!_ I’m not going to pretend I didn’t and just brush it off like you’ve been doing!”

“How many fucking times can we go over this! _It wasn’t you Gerard!”_ He pushed him up against the sink in an attempt to make him pay attention.

Gerard’s blue stained hand ghosted over Frank’s neck leaving behind a trail of colour. 

“It was.” His voice was quiet. “It was me.”

“Gerard you’re going to kill yourself with this much guilt.” He flinched back at Frank’s phrasing. “What’s it going to take for you to feel better about this?” He leaned further into Gerard’s space. Their chests were touching and Frank could feel Gerard’s breath against his forehead. 

“You shouldn’t stand so close to me Frankie.” Gerard’s voice was slow and steady when he spoke.

“Oh, why? Because you’re so fucking afraid of hurting me? I _trust you!_ ”

“No.” Gerard leaned down and Frank could’ve sworn his tongue brushed over his lip ring. “Because I want to kiss you and when you’re this close to me I don’t know if I can stop myself.”

Frank felt light headed. “Then do it.”

Gerard took a step away from him and let his eyes fall to the floor.

“Thanks for helping me dye my hair. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Tears of frustration threatened to spill on Frank’s cheeks as he stalked back to his room. 

Maybe things weren’t totally normal.


	2. Jack Kennedy forgot to count me in

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> K, this fic is moving slower than I planned…. Turns out I have a real soft spot for them just chilling and being supportive friends sooooooooooooo this is mainly self indulgent…
> 
> I feel like the last fic was super action based so I’m trying to focus more on personal growth and relationships in this one.

Frank dropped the washcloth into the sink. It wasn’t helping. 

Teal streaks stained his neck from Gerard’s hands last night. It was 6am and Frank was the only one up. He moved through the house like a ghost. He was reminded suddenly of the Before. Before he met Gerard and Mikey. Before Ray came here. Before they’d all made a solemn promise to save each other’s souls. They’d only known each other for a week when they’d done that- pledged salvation or destruction. Maybe it was because they were all broken and the only mirrors you could really see in were the shattered ones you found in alleyways and gas station bathrooms. 

He was happy he wasn’t alone anymore. No matter the shit currently going on with Gerard, he would take it all for the happy moments along the way. The mornings in bed and nights hunched over the table with coffee in hand. The way the four of them could talk about life and death and guitar strings. It was good. Things were good.

He’d done it since he was a small child. Getting up before anyone else on this birthday. He would sit on the concrete steps outside with a pilfered juicebox from the fridge and then sneak back to bed before his mum noticed. Eventually this turned into a morning beer and not really giving a shit if his mum caught him. Then it turned into the fire escape of his own apartment and whatever dregs he could find in a stray vodka bottle from his fridge. Didn’t matter what it was because it was _his._

It was like his own private celebration. He loved staring at the empty streets and drawn curtains before the rest of the world would rise. It was like he was cheating them all; stealing extra time before the sun fully rose, bringing along the legions of the living. Frank never liked them much. The _9-5 gotta get my five dollar latte and plan weekend barbeques_ crowd. Every year that passed he was expected to be more like them. Every year that passed he saw more and more divisions between himself and them. 

He sat down on the porch with a cup of coffee. Morning mist mixed in with cigarette smoke creating a barrage of half real shapes and almost monsters in the chilled air. 

This year was different.

He wasn’t celebrating another year of a long hard fall. He was, dare he even think it, _hopeful._ He had friends, maybe half of them were vampires but they were still friends, he had started to play guitar again, he had a purpose. Sure it wasn’t _conventional._ But devampiring two of his best friends seemed like a good enough way to spend 24. Better than the original plan (be unconscious for as much of it as possible). 

After that, the devampiring that was, there was a chance. If Gerard was human he wouldn’t be worried about hurting Frank and then-

The door creaked open. 

A gangly form folded itself up on the steps next to Frank.

“Didn’t take you for a morning person Mikey.”

“Could say the same for you.” A mug with a liquid too red to be coffee was raised to Mikey’s lips. “Happy Birthday.”

“Thanks.” Frank could feel Mikey’s gaze on the teal across his neck which suddenly felt like blood splatter at a murder scene. It felt like evidence. Evidence of a crime much too old to have a name.

“It only dyed his roots, you know. The rest is still black. Looks kinda cool though. Splotchy- like your neck.”

Frank rolled his eyes. Someone really needed to teach that kid some tact.

“It’s an old habit I guess.”

Frank jumped. He hadn’t expected Mikey to continue. He thought he’d go inside and make snarky comments to Ray about Frank and Gerard. Instead he had turned to face Frank and for the first time since meeting him Mikey looked old. Much older than the rest of them.

“What’s an old habit?” Frank felt the need to whisper. Like he might break something if he spoke any louder.

“Waiting outside at dawn. Gerard he used to- well, he wasn’t doing great before the whole vampire thing either. He would stumble home around 6am tripping over his own feet and vomiting in the street. I was fucking terrified. Terrified he just wouldn’t come back one day. So I’d wait outside for him; like a vigil of sorts I guess.”

Fear flashed through Frank as he thought of the near nightly drinking the four of them engaged in.

“Shit- did I fuck it up?”

“No, no he’s fine now. He can stop after a few beers. He never gets blackout anymore. He drinks ‘cause it’s fun now; not because he needs to. But I have some fucked up mental clock that wakes me up at 6am anyways.”

“You’re a good brother Mikey Way.” And he meant it. Everyone needed someone who would love them that unconditionally in their lives. A friend, a sibling, anyone. Platonic love was kindness in stereo and the world needed more of it.

“If you ever say that again I’ll totally kill you.” He sipped his blood and stuck out his tongue.

“You’re a good brother and you _caaare_ about people.” He ruffled Mikey’s hair while Mikey made a gagging sound. 

They were silent for a beat.

“Kay,” he turned to face Mikey with a mock serious face, “you get devamped. What’s the first thing you do?”

“ _Devamped?”_

“It’s totally a word!”

Frank saw it then. The giddy excitement Mikey was trying to tamp down. Maybe hope was contagious.

“Road trip.”

“Seriously?” Mikey never struck him as someone who’d want to be cramped in a car with a bunch of other people with the only reprieve being gas station bathrooms.

“Gerard and I planned it. Before you and Ray got here. It got lonely with just the two of us sometimes and we missed normal. Missed being able to go outside whenever we wanted. Missed going wherever we wanted. Missed freedom. So we planned this crazy road trip through the states even though we never thought we’d be able to go. Gerard even made a mix tape for it.”

“Is it just Placebo?”

“Basically.” 

“Fucking Brian Molko.”

They laughed then. Real, honest laughs. Ones that bubbled up from deep in your stomach and threatened to split open your face in a hilarious violence.

As the dark grey sky moved to a lighter shade of overcast and signalled dawn, Frank decided he’d better head back to bed for a few more hours. It was his birthday after all.

He patted Mikey’s knee as he got up.

“And Frank?”

He paused at the doorway. “Yeah?”

“I’m really happy we met you.”

\---

He groaned. It had been so long since he had a night terror and yet. The shadow at his doorway hovered, oddly uncertain for a demonic creature. 

Frank’s eyes adjusted to the milky almost-darkness from the sunless dawn. A teal halo glinted in the grey and thick eyelashes fluttered. Not a night terror then.

“Gerard?”

“I didn’t mean to wake you.” His voice was further away than the meter and half between Frank’s bed and the doorway would suggest. 

“You were just going to stand there and watch me sleep?”

“Uh, no?”

“You can come in, you know.”

“Uh.” 

They floated in the impasse like drifters under a bridge. Gerard, too guilt ridden to enter Frank’s room, still splattered with pink no one could quite scrub out. Frank, unsure what the other wanted and not sure if he could take the answer anyways. 

Gerard sat down on one side of the threshold, cross legged, and deafened by the echo of everything they used to be.

“Happy Birthday Frank.” It was barely a whisper but broke Frank’s spell of paralysis as he approached the doorway and sunk down across from Gerard. 

“Did you mean what you said last night?” Frank figured he might as well jump in the deep end. He almost drowned once, as a kid. The water filling his lungs wasn’t that bad. It was coughing it up that hurt. 

Gerard tugged at the hem of his pyjama pants. “I’d never lie to you Frank.”

His chest felt like it was on fire. Gerard still cared about him and openly admitted it. He still wanted to hold him, to kiss him. But he wouldn’t. His heart dropped to his stomach and his muscles trembled. _He fucking ached._ He supposed this was the water leaving his lungs then. 

Well, if they were being honest then-

“And I’d never lie to you. So when I tell you I’m not mad at you, I’m not scared of you, you need to believe me. What hurts is how you look at me like I’m something you broke. I was broken up long before you met me. If you see any cracks now it’s just from the pieces I glued back together.”

“That doesn’t make me feel any fucking better Frank.”

“Your guilt can’t be my burden!” 

He hadn’t meant to snap but he was _tired._ Tired of not having Gerard because he was too scared. Tired of pitying looks. Tired of something so golden being thrown into the blue. 

Gerard realized then, what he had been doing to Frank. He’d taken all his fear and his self hatred at the monster he was and shoved it onto Frank. Jammed it between their hearts and then blamed the distance he’d manufactured. The space between the stars was no place for pyres or crows. 

“You were never meant to carry that. I- I’m sorry. I didn’t realize that’s what I was doing.”

“I know.” And Frank did. He knew Gerard would never hurt him intentionally.

“Friends?” His voice was small, like he thought Frank might say no. Like the softness and silence might save him from the blow.

“Friends. Fuck, of course! Friends.” 

They grinned at each other like children across the doorway. Something from three weeks ago blinked slowly.

They drifted off like that. Slumped against the door jamb and too close to be touching. 

When Gerard woke up his back was cramped and he wasn’t sure his neck would ever sit straight again. But Frank was still there. Curled against the door when his bed sat only a meter away. His hair stuck up in angles Gerard had previously thought impossible and his face looked the sort of velvet soft only sleep could conjure. His fingers itched for a pencil. 

At some point during their nap Gerard had migrated past the threshold into Frank’s room. Their legs were pressed together and the thread bare rug beneath their bodies did little to cushion them.

Eventually Frank came to, reality cracked over the softness, his jaw sharpened and brows set. 

A silent understanding passed between them. 

It was okay. 

They were okay. 

Gerard ducked his head and faster than was necessarily human pecked Frank on the cheek. 

“Good Morning.”

Frank was sure it didn’t mean anything. 

“You too.” His voice cracked.

\----

“Happy Birthday!”

A head of curls was the last thing Frank saw as he was tackled to the floor after descending the stairs with Gerard.

“You’re going to kill me doing that one year.”

“Shut up! It’s a birthday tradition and you know it!”

By the time they’d gotten back up and dusted themselves off Frank noticed the empty table. 

“Don’t we have shit to be doing?”

“Well, if you hadn’t noticed you and my semi useless brother-”

“Hey!”

“Slept in until 2pm so Ray and I finished translating the last chapter.”

“What?” Gerard rushed up to the table with wide eyes and Frank nearly dropped his mug.

“It’s finished? We can- we can actually fucking start this?” Frank couldn’t keep his voice steady and they were all grinning like cats with mice. 

“Tomorrow. We can start it tomorrow because tonight we’re celebrating!” 

Fuck, he had great friends.

The afternoon was spent locating and unpacking Grandma Iero’s Halloween decorations which were strewn around with the taste and grace of adolescent idiots. Candy was consumed at a frightening rate and Frank, in honour of his birthday, was given free reign over the stereo system. This, however, did not exempt him from complaints and he had to relent at one point and let Ray play Fear of the Dark- t'was the season and all that shit. 

Frank thought it was fucking perfect.

\----

“Dude, that’s awesome!”

The slick tip of the thin black marker slid one final line as Gerard pulled back from Frank’s wrist, looking pleased with his work.

A small bat, with wings spread, sat on Frank’s inner wrist. 

Every year on his birthday, since he was 15, he had gotten a tattoo. He was rather loudly lamenting the loss this year as Gerard and Ray both left the room. Gerard had returned moments later with markers in tow and a jaw splitting grin. 

They sat on the couch as Mikey perched himself on the arm and leaned over to observe, asking every few minutes what it was going to be. 

Frank hoped his erratic pulse wasn’t too noticeable as Gerard gripped his wrist.

Ray reentered the room then with an ever so slightly manic smile on his face. 

“Care to share with the group Dr. Doom?” Ray snorted as Frank spoke.

“You’re such a nerd.” Mikey rolled his eyes at Frank. 

“Oh, I’m a nerd? The only reason you’re not wearing a Batman t-shirt today is because you know Ray likes Metallica.”

“And you’re trying to _impress him.”_ Gerard joined in Frank’s goading of his younger brother who’s face was a distinctly guilty shade of pink.

Ray cleared his throat, not looking much better. “You’re still getting a birthday tattoo.” He pulled out a Frankenstein tattoo needle. A sewing needle jabbed into the fleshy pink of the eraser side of a pencil which was wrapped in thread soaked in ink. It looked jenky. It looked fucked up. Frank loved the idea already. “And look,” he gestured to Gerard’s drawing, “you’ve already got a design! I’ll just follow it with the needle.”

At the mention of his name Gerard’s face washed over positively green.

“You okay?” Frank and Ray’s worried eyes fell on him.

“He’s afraid of needles.” Mikey just sounded relieved no one was asking him about Ray anymore.

“Seriously? You’re a vampire!”

“And?” Gerard squeaked while shying away from Ray’s approaching form with the needle. 

“You don’t have to stay! Just tell me you’re okay with me getting your drawing tattooed.” It seemed the sort of art etiquette question you should ask.

But by the time Frank turned to Gerard he was already gone. Ray and Mikey burst out laughing while Frank tried to stifle his as he ventured into the kitchen after the vampire in question.

“Com’on Gerard! I promise I don’t have anything sharp with me.” Okay, maybe the laughter had gotten out a bit. He couldn’t help it. It was fucking hilarious.

“I don’t see what’s so funny about me not liking needles! You’re afraid of spiders!” Gerard’s cheeks were red and his lips were pursed. _Did they have gloss on them? Not the time, Frank!_ His arms were crossed against his chest but Frank could tell the huffy exterior was a front. 

“Yeah,” Frank stepped forwards and uncrossed Gerard’s arms, “but you’re _a vampire_ who’s afraid of sharp objects. It’s funny dude! You don’t have to watch or anything. I just want to check you’re okay with me using your art?” His voice was earnest. He really did care about Gerard’s opinions which was still a novel and lovely feeling to Gerard.

“Won’t it hurt?” His tongue darted out to wet his lips.

“Nah, I’ve gotten plenty before. Plus,” he paused briefly, not sure if the statement was too bold for the butterfly wings of their repaired friendship, “if I liked your teeth in my leg, I’m pretty sure a needle in my wrist won’t kill me.”

Both their faces were burning up but Gerard wasn’t in the mood to lose whatever fucked up game they were playing. 

“But it still hurt, at first, when they sunk in. I heard you yell.”

“Yeah, that was the part I _liked_.” Frank was pretty sure the sudden lack of oxygen in the room was going to kill them both. 

Gerard broke into an impressive coughing fit that only simmered after Frank passed him a cigarette.

“Are you okay?” Ray’s curly head leaned out from the doorway.

“Fine!” They both yelled in unison. 

“Freaks.” Mikey muttered under his breath from the sitting room. 

“So….” Ray’s eyes drifted between the two of them. “It’s all good?”

“Yeah, um, totally. It’s really cool, actually, that you want my art tattooed.” A more innocent blush of admiration toned down the wine red in their cheeks.

Ray set them up at the card table/ research table/ beer holding table/ remember that time Mikey passed out drunk on this table? 

Gerard was in the sitting room drawing a small pumpkin on his brother’s hip who insisted it had nothing to do with his massive crush on Billy Corgan and obsession with The Smashing Pumpkins and was just because he liked Halloween and creepy things. Ray then commented that nothing was as creepy as Gerard’s lack of showering which earned him a pillow to the back of the head. 

Ray’s steady hand carefully broke the skin of Frank’s wrist. Drops of blood welled up along the pricks and Frank felt oddly selfish- like he was wasting them somehow. But he couldn’t very well ask Ray to pause for a second because he thought Gerard might be interested in licking the blood off his wrist. That would be weird.

Wait, would that be weird?

Yes, that would be weird, Frank’s brain confirmed. Damn.

He examined Ray’s forearms as he worked. They were rarely uncovered but he’d pushed up his sweater sleeves so he could work more smoothly. The thin white lines raised along his tanned flesh stood out like soldiers at attention. Frank was relieved to see the freshest looking one was a subtle pink instead of a screaming red- it was more than a few months old then.

“You’re doing better then?” It was a delicate topic Frank knew. But Ray was his best friend and since he’d first seen the splash of red in Ray’s sink and razor blade in his fingers he’d been checking in on his habit. Since they’d first sat down together on the bathroom floor two years ago and Ray had laid it all out for him. Since Ray had explained what a perfectionist he was and when he felt like he’d done something wrong, or just _not good enough,_ he’d made it better with steel and blood. 

“Yeah,” the pressure on the needle increased an almost painful amount, “I’m doing better.” The fresh scars on Ray’s legs burned as he lied to Frank. He didn’t want to worry him.

They drifted back to safe subjects and by the time they’d unpacked the horrific monstrosity that was the new single from the upcoming Guns n’ Roses album Frank’s tattoo was complete.

He examined it like a kid with a new toy, his eyes bright as he thanked Ray and ran off to show Gerard. 

Mikey drifted into the room and, despite teasing his brother, he himself looked nervous.

“You don’t have to do it, you know. I swear I won’t tell anyone you chickened out.”

“I’m not scared!” He resolutely plopped his gangly form on the chair across from Ray.

“Alright, alright, you just have to,” Ray’s large hand hooked the belt loop of Mikey’s pants and tugged them down at the left hip exposing the small pumpkin for Ray to ink, “there.” 

Mikey focussed very hard on breathing.

Gerard was totally wrong; he _did not have a crush on Ray._ For God’s sake, he didn’t get crushes! He was 21 years old and had been in serious relationships before. If he liked Ray he would just tell him. Not that he did. But _if_ he did he would just be straight forward. Just say-

“I like your hands.” _FUCK. I like your hands? How had he said that outloud…. Fuck._

“Um,” Ray paused with the needle above Mikey’s hip, “thanks. Cool if I start?”

“You can do whatever you want to me.” It was around then Mikey wished himself dead and decided he was never going to speak again.

The needle dug steadily into his flesh.

“So, what’s your favourite Smashing Pumpkins song?” Ray didn’t look up from his work as he spoke.

“I’m not getting this because of The Sma-”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. I can hear you blaring Melancholy and the Infinite Sadness from the attic dude. I _know_ you like them.”

“You don’t think that’s lame?”

“They’re not my taste but that doesn’t mean they’re lame. I’m sure they have some good songs. Besides, if you tell me your favourites I’ll listen to them and then we could talk about them or whatever.”

Mikey’s heart soared. _Totally not a crush though._

He then launched into a twenty eight minute spiel on the intricacies of Gish. 

Ray had finished the tattoo long ago and listened eagerly as Mikey explained why the bass work on Rhinoceros was revolutionary at the time and occasionally cut in with his own references to Judas Priest and Nazareth. 

_BANG!_ Dust swirled off the ancient trunk into the air like pillars of smoke. If Mikey was still human he would’ve needed his inhaler.

“If you guys can shut up about your shitty bands for a second-” Frank started.

“Hey!” Ray and Mikey objected.

“Look what we fucking found in the attic!” Gerard ripped open the top of the trunk revealing, well, a lot.

Multicoloured silks and shimmering beads, pressed cottons and deep velvets, ties and feathers and rounded sunglasses. 

“I thought we agreed _not_ to dress up.” 

“You’re just being a bitch because we interrupted your conversation with Ray.” Frank stuck out his tongue.

“We don’t have to dress up in _costumes_ ; just dress up! Com’on we haven’t been to a party in _forever_ and it’s Frank’s birthday.” Gerard did his best puppy dog eyes. Unfortunately, Mikey was the only being on earth immune to them.

“It would be kinda fun.” 

Mikey sighed. He _was not_ immune to Ray Toro.

“Fine. But you better get me my blender asap Toro.”

“Hey, _you’d better_ be nicer to me! I’m your tattoo artist now! You didn’t even tip!”

“What a jerk.” Frank nodded as Gerard giddily sorted through the heap of clothes.

“You’ll get your tip later.”

“Well what’s it going to be?”

“I’ll make you one drink.”

“All your drinks have blood in them!”

“That sounds like a personal problem.”

“You’re nothing but problems Mikey Way.”

“Good. I aim to please.”

“One, ew,” Gerard scrunched up his nose while Frank laughed, “two, you’d both better hurry up or Frank and I will get all the good stuff.”

“Oh no,” Ray turned towards the trunk, “I don’t know what I’ll do after Frank takes all the children’s size clothing.”

“Take that back motherfucker! It’s my birthday.” 

“Don’t worry Frankie,” Mikey reached over and ruffled his hair, “maybe next year you’ll fit into the preteen stuff.”

“Like you’re one to talk! All of your clothes are from the teen girl section of Hot Topic.”

Mikey cut a look at Gerard. “Before you even consider laughing please remember the fact you’ve worn that hoodie for the past two years.”

“It’s called consistency, Mikey!”

“Yeah, _consistently_ looking like every emo girl in high school.” Mikey high fived Ray.

“Burn!” Frank called from where he was now sitting _inside_ the trunk.

Through their tittering they’d all gathered up a few armfuls of clothing to try on and Frank couldn’t help the excitement he felt. It’s like he was a kid again getting ready for Halloween with his friends. 

He cranked the stereo, grabbed a beer and definitely did not look at Gerard’s ass as he walked up the stairs.

Fine, maybe it was a bit different than when he was a kid. 

\---

Frank really couldn’t help it, he decided, as he finished painting the fake blood on his chin. When greeted with an opportunity to annoy everyone else around him he really couldn’t turn it down. It was just his nature.

Which was why, when he turned the corner of the stairs with a dramatic flourish, he was fairly disappointed.

“Well that’s totally uncool.” Frank muttered to himself. It was never fashionable to be the first person to your own party. 

He still, of course, took the time to examine his reflection in the sitting room mirror. He’d let his grown out hair fall in a sweep across his forehead and gummed up the back with gel and wax in a barrage of directions (he had a punk image to maintain after all). Candy apple red fake blood was painted onto his lips and spilt down his chin. Next was his fake blood decorated tight white Sex Pistols t-shirt and trousers that pooled a bit at his ankles; his grommeted belt barely held them up. It was one bitching vampire costume if he did say so himself. 

Frank decided to get himself a drink before Mikey started pouring blood into everything. Upon his entrance to the kitchen he found Gerard. More specifically, Gerard in a black t-shirt so tight he assumed he stole it from Mikey, a studded belt, skinny jeans low enough to show a strip of pale flesh on his lower stomach, black nail varnish, eyeliner, mascara, lipgloss and earrings.

Frank was suddenly very thankful his trousers were so baggy. 

He wanted to tell Gerard he looked beautiful, he looked hot, he looked like a dream Frank often had. 

Instead, what came out was, “you’re wearing earrings.”

“I’m Brian Molko.”

“You’re kinda obsessed with that guy.”

“Jealous?”

“Shove it.”

“Do not tell me you’re seriously dressed as a vampire.”

“Okay, I’m not seriously dressed as a vampire.”

“Shove it.”

They grinned at each other as Gerard handed him a drink and they leaned back against the counter top.

“What’re your bets on Mikey and Ray? I went classic-”

“Offensive-” Gerard cut in.

“And you went slutty-”

“Hey!” His voice rose an octave. “This is _not_ slutty! Brian is an artist!”

Frank laughed and raised his own voice in a mock girlish pitch. " _Brian in an artist.”_

“You’re just upset because my makeup is waaaay better than yours.” Gerard turned to face Frank who sitting on the counter. 

“Not my fault I don’t own any eyeliner!”

“Oh.”

With that Gerard was gone.

Frank blinked and sipped on his drink. What he liked about Gerard was that he was pretty sure he’d be this weird even without the whole vampire thing.

Gerard tucked his hair behind his ears as he returned with a kohl pencil poised between his fingers. He leaned against the counter Frank was perched on between his legs. A cool hand came to rest on his cheek bone as the pencil hovered over his eyelid.

“This okay?”

This was more than okay in Frank’s book.

“Yep.”

“Close.”

Frank did as instructed and tried not to screw up his face as Gerard dragged the pencil in delicate strokes across his eyelids. 

“Two years ago I was Kathleen Hana for Halloween.” Frank had to try not to choke as he imagined Gerard in a skirt.

“How did that go?” He opened his eyes as Gerard finished smudging the dark grey lines. He hadn’t expected his face to be so close. Neither moved away. In the small space between them electricity played in sparks and bolts.

“No one knew I was a dude unless I spoke. Created a few awkward situations.” Gerard didn’t look awkward though, he looked rather smug and bit proud. “I make a hot girl.”

“You make a hot Brian Molko as well.” Frank didn’t let himself feel embarrassed by the words that slipped out of his mouth. Chances were, after a few drinks, he would’ve said it anyways. Better here than in front of Ray and Mikey. 

“You think so?”

Frank could feel Gerard’s breath on his face.

The stairs sounded and Gerard flung himself back like the breaking of a spell.

Right before Ray rounded the corner to the kitchen Frank lowered his voice. “Yeah, yeah you do.” He winked and downed the rest of his drink. 

Despite Frank thinking himself rather smooth the scene Ray walked in on was the two of them standing on opposite sides of the kitchen, blushing, mumbling something into their drinks. The usual, then.

Ray wore a long sleeve black shirt with white embroidered bones on it. What really sold the skeleton costume were the delicate lines across his face. The skull facepaint was vaguely creepy and astoundingly impressive. 

Despite the popular opinion that Mikey had probably barricaded himself in the attic, another set of footsteps sounded. 

“You’re all the most boring party attendees known to humankind.” He reached over and turned the music as loud as it would go and started up the blender. 

“A sheet.”

“You’re wearing a sheet?”

“Seriously Mikes?”

The rail thin man draped in white with lopsided eyes cut out turned to face them. “What? You wanted me to dress up so I did. And technically this is a table cloth.”

“I don’t care what you’re dressed up as but you better fucking smile.”

"I'm a ghost!" Mikey protested.

Ray turned his polaroid camera to face them all and snapped a photo. 

While the others crowded around the photo to watch it develop, Frank couldn’t help but feel dread curled up in his stomach. Things were great right now but he was so sure he and Gerard would fuck things up. Say something wrong, say something right, get too close, stay too far apart.

But they didn’t.

They were good.

They did it right at the party.

Did it by the book.

They danced (but not too close).

They sat together on the couch (but not too close).

They walked to the kitchen to get more drinks (but not too close).

But it was in the space inbetween that there was room for hope.

In the pulsing of the music they could see the faith of the heretic. Imagine their hips moving together and hands on lower backs.

On the couch cushions they could imagine the warmth (or coolness) of the other’s thigh or crook of their neck.

And in the kitchen where the music echoed ghostly loud they felt they were almost in another dimension. One where they could.

Where they could be too close.

But they didn't.

They were good.

They did it right at the party.

Did it by the book.

\---

By the time Ray was drunk enough to give up control of the stereo, him and Mikey were sat on the couch and Gerard and Frank across from them on the floor. All were breathing heavily from dancing and the sounds of Common People filled the room. Empty beer bottles were towered against the wall and each now how a glass of hard liquor. It was a party after all. 

Not much was left of Ray’s makeup and a half hour into dancing Mikey had removed his table cloth. Frank’s fake blood had mostly wore off and his eyeliner sat in unpleasant bags beneath his eyes. Gerard was the only one who had remained in tact- his lips still impossibly glossy. 

“Look, I’m not going to do something embarrassing like tell you what a good friend you are and how important you are to me. But, you’re a good friend and are incredibly important to me.” Ray slurred at him from the couch. Frank could see in his eyes he was sober enough to mean it and it warmed his heart. 

Here he was, on his 24th birthday, with three people who really cared about him. It almost made him feel bad about all those times he’d gone to bed blackout drunk hoping he’d aspirate his own vomit and die. Now he was happy. Even with an uncertain future and no job. Even in his odd stasis with Gerard. He was happy.

Four glasses clinked together and a chorus of _cheers_ and _happy birthday_ rung out.

He watched as Ray and Mikey inexplicably fell asleep over the blaring music and was surprised to find his own eyelids heavy with sleep. 

A whisper in his ear led him back from dreamland.

“Follow me.”

He clutched the hand leading him up the stairs in a blur.

Next thing he knew he was face to face with Gerard in the attic. _He really did look pretty in makeup,_ Frank thought.

Gerard’s eyes drifted to Frank’s sweaty shirt that had ridden up over his hips, his smudged eyeliner and slightly agape mouth. He looked _fucked._

“I made you something- a present.” He shoved the the paper into Frank’s grasp before he could backout.

The shorter’s eyes studied the neat charcoal and graphite lines, the perfect highlights and graceful shading. It was a portrait of Sweet Pea.

“I know you miss her, Hell, I miss her. So uh, happy birthday Frank. I’m sorry she couldn’t be here.”

It took everything Frank had in his drunken self not to cry. 

“Fuck, thank you Gerard. This is amazing.” He took a step forward and gently placed the drawing on the night stand, not wanting his sweaty hands to ruin it. 

“I just don’t want you to be too sad. You don’t suit tragic as much as you think Frank.” His hand ghosted along Frank’s side and pomegranate blossoms grew there. 

“It’s perfect- could I, could I have one more present though?” Frank couldn’t control his words. They grew fully formed from his heart and seemed to bypass his brain on the way to his mouth.

“I would give you anything.”

“No you won’t. Not what I really want.”

They both knew what Frank meant. Eyes too sad to be romantic and too lust filled to be tragic bore into each other.

“Tell me, tell me what you want and I’ll give it to you.” Gerard’s arms wrapped around his waist and Frank pushed his face into Gerard’s chest.

“You.”

Silence louder than the rains that set Noah’s Arc to sea raged in the time between Frank’s words.

He continued. “I know you can’t. I know you _won’t._ But just a kiss. Just one to make sure it was real- the way I remember it being.”

“How do you remember it being?” His arms drew tighter around Frank, like he was trying to save him from the worst monster of all- memories.

What Frank wanted to say was: it was like oceans forgot to have shores, it was like Juliet never had a dagger, it was like the moon was always full.

But he was drunk and never terribly good at poetics, so what Frank said was: “Like home.” 

Gerard’s lips crashed against his and he could breathe for the first time in three weeks. Hands roamed over sweat soaked tees and Frank ran his tongue over Gerard’s fangs. 

He smelled of whiskey and Gerard of gin. They lavished within the golden palace they knew to be tin. Atlas shrugged and Madonna sighed. They knew they were suspended in wax far too close to the sun. Their perfect world would melt and they would come crashing down, as all angels do, and have to live in their imprinted graves. 

Wasn’t a graveyard better than a prison though?

_Ding Ding_

_Ding Ding_

_Ding Ding_

Frank drew back as panic blossomed in his eyes. If the only living souls in this forest were currently inside the house, who was ringing the door bell?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this was 6k words! if you liked it please comment <3


	3. Jesus wouldn't want me for a sunbeam (I checked)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bonjour! It has been a month since I updated! Whoops! In all honesty though I will try and be more consistent. I love writing this story- I've just been ultra busy. Please leave me a comment if you have a sec Xx

The interesting thing about panic was the way it seemed to blur the world around you. It muddled music and desaturated hues. It was also impossible to get away from. It clogged your nose and filled your head.

This blinding, inescapable, force was the thing that saved whatever remaining dregs of pride Frank and Gerard had.

As the two of them came running down the stairs to find Mikey and Ray also in the foyer, eyes fixed on the door, they were spared a proper once over. Neither took note of ridden up t-shirts or Gerard’s lipgloss smeared across Frank’s mouth. 

The steady ringing had stopped and the four stood in silence around the front door.

Gerard and Mikey had drifted over to one another.

Ray’s eyes searched the slim glass pane in the door- trying to see shapes in the night.

_Well, happy birthday to me._ Frank figured it was, technically speaking, his house so he should probably be the one to answer the door. 

He took little solace in the fact it couldn't be a vampire as he or she would need to be invited onto the porch to begin with. Vampires he could deal with. His lips tingled from the memories of a glossy kiss. Yeah, vampires he could deal with.

It was the other possibilities that scared him.

His hand closed on the door knob as Gerard caught his arm.

“Frank be-”

“Careful?”

“Yeah.”

The porch was inhabited only by moths and the heavy shadow of a rural nighttime. 

“Hello? Anyone out there?”

The darkness did not respond. 

Frank slammed the door shut before it decided to change its mind.

“Maybe we imagined it?”

Ray turned to face Mikey. “You think _all four of us_ imagined the doorbell ringing at the exact same time?”

Mikey shrugged.

The unmistakable sound of nails scratching against wood echoed from the back of the house.

“Oh good, it’s making rounds.” Frank’s voice shook more than he would’ve liked.

“Probably seeing if there are any weak spots.” Gerard elbowed Mikey in the ribs who exclaimed, “what? It’s true.”

“Why would it ring the doorbell and then leave when we answered?” Ray turned to Frank like he would have the answer.

The problem was, Frank realized as he heard teeth gnawing at the outside corner of the house, was that he _did_ have an answer.

But he didn’t like it very much.

“I don’t think it’s trying to get it. I think it’s trying to scare us.”

The idea of a monster with the sole intention of toying with them, of playing with them, of stalking them until they were terrified shells of their former selves was not terribly appealing.

Gerard spoke then. His voice was even. “Everything needs to feed.”

“What do you mean?”

“You and Ray need food to survive, Mikey and I need blood. It’s all energy, right?”

“You think it feeds on our fear?”

“We heard rumours about it right after we got turned.” Mikey interjected. “About vampires that feed on energy, on fear, to survive.”

Frank felt like something cold was dripping down his forehead as memories rushed back. This wasn’t the first time he’d heard about this. His Grandmother had told him when he was little. When he was little and it seemed funny that creatures wanted to eat his bubbling anxieties and shaking hands. 

It wasn’t funny anymore.

“Do you think it will come inside?”

“I think it’s waiting.”

Frank shivered. Because, well, yeah. Would a monster breaking down their door and trying to kill them be scary? Fuck yes. But what was much more insidious was something stalking them. Taking its time.

“Well if it’s a vampire, it can’t, right?” Ray cast a nervous look at the closed door.

“But it got onto the porch.” Gerard bit his lip as he spoke.

“They’re not really vampires- not true ones anyways. That’s just the closest word we have for them.” Words his Grandmother has recited to him when he was much younger came spilling out of Frank’s mouth. Words he thought he’d forgotten. He hadn’t. “They aren’t bound by rules like that.” 

“How do we get rid of it?”

“My Grandma told me they go away once they get what they want.”

“Okay, we’re pretty fucking scared. You can go away now!” Mikey called out a window. Ray was quick to jerk him back inside with a look that clearly said _what the fuck?_

Mikey shrugged.

“I remember when you used to yell at me like that.” Frank couldn’t help the small laugh that bubbled up at Gerard’s comment. Because, well, yeah. A bit over a month ago he’d been screaming through the same window at the forest telling all the _blood sucking freaks_ to _fuck off._

He was happy Gerard hadn’t listened. That he hadn’t fucked off. 

The scratching stopped and something shifted in the air as they fell out of their fear struck paralysis.

Frank twisted the lock on the door. Gerard straightened out his shirt. Ray closed the window. Mikey’s face fell back into its usual bored expression.

“What are we going to do? About that _thing_?” No one answered Mikey’s question. No one had an answer.

A silent pact to stay together passed between them as they moved as a group to change into pajamas and wash their faces.

Frank dared to sneak a look over at Gerard. Moonlight glinted off him. Frank’s eyes followed his creamy, unmarked, skin to his face. Gerad was looking right at him. They both blushed.

The clock rung out 3am and they all jumped.

“If we’re dead we can’t be scared. You know, no food supply. So it probably won’t kill us.” Frank was pretty sure Gerard thought he was being helpful.

He was not.

“Great, it only wants to scare us _mostly_ to death.” Frank’s voice raised an octave as he spoke.

“Exactly.” 

“Well, this settles it. We need to devamp you two as soon as possible and get the Hell out of this forest.” Ray eyed their fully translated journal on the table with pride.

“But first we need to sleep. I can already feel my hangover.” 

Frank poked Mikey. “Who’s fault it that Mr-eight-bloodgaritas?”

“Shut up. Also it was nine.”

Frank trailed the others as they went up the stairs. He was reluctant to be alone in his room. Alone with his thoughts and the dark and his blood stains on the wall.

Ray and Mikey were a flight ahead of them as a quiet voice filled Frank’s ear. “What’s wrong? Bad birthday?” Frank couldn’t help the pang of guilt at the earnest expression on Gerard’s face. 

“No, it was great. _All of it_ was great.” He let his eyes fall to Gerard’s lips.

“Good.” Gerard smiled. 

They paused on the second floor landing. The hall there led to Frank’s room. Another flight up was the attic where Gerard slept.

“I just- I don’t want to be alone.” Frank surprised even himself with the honest admission. He was much more of a stay quiet and let your emotions slowly consume you sort of person.

Gerard’s hand hovered above his arm.

The makeup, the tight clothes, the alcohol on their breath- it had been hot, undeniably so. But there was something about the way the moonlight caught on the softness of Gerard’s cheeks. About the sleep hazed eyes. About the baggy t-shirt and flannel pajama pants. About the way his fangs peaked out his mouth and pressed _just so_ into his bottom lip.

“You don’t have to be alone.”

He saw Gerard’s eyes flit briefly to the pink stains on his wall as they both shuffled into his too small bed.

It felt too quiet. Too real. Frank wanted to explain himself. To tell Gerard he didn’t have to stay. To apologize. But he didn’t. Instead he took Gerard’s arm and layed it across his waist.

He knew when he woke up tomorrow Gerard would be back in his bed in the attic. He knew they wouldn’t talk about the kiss. He knew he wouldn’t get to kiss him again. 

But the sun wasn’t up yet and the spell wasn’t broken so Frank didn’t feel bad about stealing one last thing from the night.

He snuggled up to Gerard’s chest and looked up at him. There was a sad ruefulness in his eyes.

He wondered if Gerard was his new Achilles Heel or if he always had been and Frank just hadn't met him until now. 

He had always been able to save himself. Save himself from the gutter, the bottle, the rope and ceiling fan. But something about Gerard made him feel like he was drowning in the most exquisite way. 

He would've swallowed water in the middle of the ocean if Gerard asked him to. 

“Goodnight Gerard.”

Lips pressed against his forehead.

“Goodnight Frank.”

\----

The coffee sputtering into the pot did little to cover up the sound of Ray pacing around the house, peering out of windows and jiggling the door to make sure the lock still held. 

“It won’t be out during the day.” Mikey pointed out for the eighth time since he’d rolled out of bed. Dark circles clung to his face and his skin was dry and pale. He wasn’t the only one. 

Eventually Ray sat back down at the table. Four hungover faces couldn’t help but grin at each other.

Despite the evil creature who was definitely stalking them, the weird energy even Ray could feel radiating between Frank and Gerard and post birthday hangovers they were excited.

Today they could finally start working on the cure.

Three hours later their smiles had faded into wrinkled brows and downturned lips.

Turns out direct translations from Latin didn’t make a lot of sense. Huh.

“Okay what the Hell do they mean by source and sink?” Frank threw down his section of notes on the table. 

“You think that’s bad?” Mikey waved a wad of papers at Frank. “Try figuring out what ‘two sides of the same scale’ fucking means!”

Frank leaned over to Gerard’s notes before he could jerk them away and saw he was doodling in the margins.

“Seriously!”

The vampire dropped his eyes sheepishly. “Well I wasn’t really getting anywhere so…”

Ray cleared his throat. “This clearly isn’t working.”

Frank stood up as anger coursed through him. “What the fuck Ray? Are you saying we should quit?”

“Calm down Frank.” Gerard placed a hand on his back and Frank felt nauseous as he remembered last night. There was no way he was stopping himself from getting a chance at that again. At getting a chance at happiness. And Gerard would only do it if he was human. So they weren’t quitting.

“No one is suggesting that Frank.” Ray didn’t look mad- just frustrated. Frank sighed and sat back down. “I’m just saying we need a different approach.”

Mikey pulled out a blank piece of paper. “Look, names are names. They don’t change. Let’s make a list of all the ingredients first and gather them. We can worry about the method later.”

Mikey was greeted with stunned silence. That was a really good fucking plan. 

“And for the love of all that is holy, _or unholy,_ can you two stop making eyes at each other? I’m already nauseous and _that_ isn’t helping.” 

Frank and Gerard dropped each other’s gaze and Gerard coughed a bit.

“Great.”

Ray put on another pot of coffee.

By the time dusk approached a full list of ingredients had been compiled. Frank had retrieved the map they’d found previous to the journal with the cure that listed where to find specific herbs and flowers in the forest.

The next logical step was to take their list of supplies and the map into the forest and start gathering them. The forest was vast and the list long. It would take a week, at least, to gather everything. It would be best to start as soon as possible.

Unfortunately none of them were dying to venture into the woods at night when a fear eating vampire was stalking them. Funny how that worked.

They all stalled the best they could. Frank and Ray cooked themselves dinner while Gerard and Mikey lounged in the kitchen drinking blood and offering unwanted advice on making the perfect pasta sauce. They milled around, eventually getting dressed in warmer layers and gathering flashlights. Ray killed a few more minutes rearranging papers and notes.

Eventually they ran out of coats to put on and stoves to check.

“This is going to take forever.” Frank couldn’t help the awe in his voice as he looked at their list.

“I don’t think we should totally split up.” Vigorous nods followed Ray’s statement as they thought back to the doorbell last night. “Teams of two? Each of us can take a vampire.” Ray laughed a bit as he looked at Frank. 

“Hey! We’re not objects!” Gerard scowled as Frank joined in on Ray’s laughter.

“Alright, me and Frank can be one team and Ray and Gerard the other.”

“What?” Frank’s laugh was cut off as he turned on Mikey.

“ _What?”_

“I mean-” Frank looked helplessly over at Gerard. 

“It’s just that Frank and I work well together. Plus you and Ray went and found that plant that one time so you already know how to navigate together.”

“Exactly!” 

Mikey and Ray regarded them with skeptical expressions.

“You guys are actually going to look for plants, right? Like you’re not going to just blow each other in the forest?” Mikey made a screeching noise and covered his ears as Ray spoke.

“We’re not even-”

“We don’t-”

“We never-”

“Well not _never-_ ”

“But not anymore-”

“Mostly-” 

“At all.”

“At all.”

“Fine.” Ray rolled his eyes.

Frank unlocked the door. Darkness greeted them. Not the smooth, liquid type from yesterday. This was stickier. It clung to them like spider webs. 

They agreed to meet back at the house in two hours.

Frank held the flashlight and map as he and Gerard ventured into the woods.

They were to return with Neranthim and Ray and Mikey with Silver Clover. 

“I don’t even know what their problem was with us going together.” Gerard kicked a rock as they made their way towards the wooded hill Neranthim grew on (according to the map). 

“Yeah, we never even, uh…” Frank had started the sentence before his brain had a chance to realize where it was going. 

“We never what?” Gerard asked absentmindedly as they continued walking.

“Um, blew each other.”

Gerard sputtered out a few coughs.

“Right.”

They continued trekking in silence.

Gerard couldn’t help the small bubble of annoyance at the back of his mind. They did _some_ things. He had drank Frank’s blood for Christ’s sake! And he totally _would’ve_ blown him after if Ray and Mikey hadn’t gotten back so soon.

“Did your last boyfriend?”

“What?”

Gerard could smell the blood rising in Frank’s cheeks.

“Did your last boyfriend blow you? Like, a lot?”

Now Frank was coughing.

“My last boyfriend was a girlfriend.”

“Okay, did _she_?”

Gerard wasn’t sure why it bothered him so much or why he felt the sudden need to know. It wasn’t like he had ever _dated_ Frank. They just, well, they were just them. And then they weren’t. Because of Gerard.

“I mean, yeah, like a normal amount I guess.”

“What’s a normal amount?”

“What, do you want a weekly breakdown?”

Gerard was silent.

“Why are you being such a freak about this?” Frank gestured at the taller vampire and, in the middle of his glowering, forgot to shine the flashlight ahead of him on the hill.

His foot caught on a branch and he fell, untethered, through the air. Note to self: converse are not good trekking through a forest shoes. He braced for the sharp rocks and dirt and hoped the smell of his blood wouldn’t bother Gerard too much. 

But the ground never came.

Arms wrapped around him and pulled him close. Before he could even think about what he was doing he curled into Gerard’s chest. They fell onto the forest floor together, Gerard shielding Frank from the impact.

“Are you okay?”

Bright eyes bore into Frank’s and he felt the coolness of Gerard’s flesh under his own.

“Am I okay? You, like, threw yourself underneath me. Are _you_ okay?”

“I’m fine.” Gerard’s hands settled on Frank’s thighs that were currently straddling him.

“Me too.”

The flashlight had rolled away from Frank and illuminated the hilltop they sat on. White Neranthim flowers shone back. 

“For the record I would’ve you know.”

“Would’ve?”

Gerard moved them, with his inhuman speed, as Frank’s head spun. They were both upright and Gerard was opening a satchel for the flowers. Frank leaned back against a tree.

“Would’ve blown you. When we were together. _Not together._ Whatever we were.”

Frank was suddenly very thankful for the tree he was leaning against. _Together? Not together? What?_

Every conceivable response Frank could’ve thought of was washed from his mind when he felt hot breath on his neck. How had Gerard crossed the field again in seconds? But it didn’t feel like Gerard. It felt sour.

Gerard’s panic filled eyes met Frank’s as he turned to face him from the other side of the hill, flowers stuffed safely in the satchel. 

It wasn’t Gerard.

Frank forced his head to turn and his blood turned cold. The energy vampire licked his neck. It was barely a shape; it held a loose form made of shadows and spider silk and wine dark seas. Slick black liquid dripped from its jaws and coated Frank’s neck. 

There were many poetic ways to describe how Frank felt. It could be said he felt like a moon glued to Jupiter- insignificant and cold. It could be said he felt like the day after New Years’; when you realized nothing magical was going to happen and your life was as miserable as ever- but it was so much worse because you had hope for a fleeting moment before dark reality set in. It could be said he felt like broken lanterns and rockslides and speeding tickets and caffeinated wine. 

But deep down, Frank didn’t feel any of those ways. Frank felt frozen.

Fight or flight. Those were your body’s natural instincts when in trouble- one of the two. But there was a third, much older, instinct. One for children who looked under their beds at night and for women who turned around when they heard footsteps behind them in parkades. One made for people who felt fear. Real fear. _Old_ fear.

That instinct was to freeze. 

Seeing proper, true evil would do that to a person.

Frank froze.

Evil wasn’t always sharp teeth and shadowy forms. Sometimes evil was pressed suits and gelled hair. Sometimes evil was your uncle that always liked to tuck you in at night. Sometimes evil was the fourth beer and a running car. But none of that mattered because this evil was. This evil _was_ sharp teeth and shadowy forms.

Gerard grabbed Frank by the hand and started running. 

Gerard had seen evil before. He _was evil_ as far as he was concerned. And he knew what he wanted everyone to do with him- run away as fast as they could.

Frank wasn’t sure how long they’d been running for as the air started to shred through his pneumonia damaged, cigarette addled lungs, at an unbearable pace.

Gerard squeezed his hand, encouraging him another hundred meters before Frank stopped. At this point he’d rather the energy vampire kill him than run another foot.

“Gerard- Gerard I need to stop.” 

He pulled them abruptly behind a tree. Their skulls hit the rough bark and all Frank could hear was their ragged breath.

“Thank god. I was going to die if I ran anymore.” Gerard huffed out between gasping mouthfuls of air.

“Oh, _that’s_ what was going to kill us?” Frank tried for a skeptical tone but his voice shook. 

The snap of a lighter drew his attention and Gerard sucked in smoke before passing the cigarette to Frank.

“Thanks for, uh, saving my life I guess.”

Gerard leaned his head back against the tree and examined the stars. “Anytime Frankie.”

Once their heart rates had settled to a more reasonable level they started their walk back home. 

They didn’t talk about almost dying. They didn’t talk about Gerard saving his life. They didn’t talk about blow jobs either. Frank was disappointed. He wasn’t sure about which though.

Frank was horrified to realize they’d run most of the way. He decided it was exercise, not energy vampires, that were the real enemy. He looked back at the woods as they entered the house and shivered. Okay, maybe energy vampires a bit.

Ray and Mikey took in their dirt stained (the fault of Frank’s fall) and out of breath (the fault of being avid smokers and outrunning an energy vampire) appearance and immediately started shouting.

“What happened?!”

“Frank what the Hell man?!”

“Are you okay?!”

“I swear to god if you two were rolling around in the bushes somewhere I’ll kill both of you.”

Ray and Mikey alternately berated them.

Gerard opened the satchel and placed the Neranthim next to the Silver Clover on the table. “Look, we got what we were supposed too.”

“Plus an energy vampire. Like a two for one.” Frank cracked like he hadn’t been terrified out of his mind. 

“It found you? Are you okay?” Ray’s brows drew together in concern.

“Fine.” Gerard answered firmly before Frank could point out that Gerard saved them. “We got away.”

“If we can only gather a few things at a time before that _thing_ appears this is going to take forever. Literally.” Mikey griped.

“We need help.” 

“Who are we going to ask? Hmm? All our vampire friends?”

Gerard raised an eyebrow at that and Mikey groaned.

Frank couldn’t help but feel he’d missed something.

“What’s going on?” Ray voiced his concerns before Frank could.

“She gave you her number to be nice, Gerard- not because she actually _wanted_ to help us.” Mikey plowed on, ignoring Ray.

“She said _call if you need anything!_ This totally counts as _anything._ ”

“Who are you calling?” Ray waved his arms when he spoke, hoping to get their attention.

“Fine- call her. She isn’t going to come help us.” Frank and Ray might as well have been invisible to the brothers’ Way. 

“She will! She was so cool, remember? She let me keep her Black Flag cassette _and_ showed us where to steal those tins of blood from the hospital in town!”

Gerard went to the kitchen to dial a number from the land line.

Ray gave Mikey his second _what the fuck_ look in 24 hours.

“This girl named Lynz helped Gerard and I when we first turned. She got us blood and stuff. I used to know her when we were both human and worked at a record store together. She’s a vamp too now. Her and Gerard were both in art school and dropped out when they turned. She used to hang around the forest but she met some chick and they’ve been off somewhere together for a year or so now.” 

“Wait, did she and Gerard used to d-”

“So not getting into this with you.” Mikey rolled his eyes and shuffled into the kitchen.

Gerard returned a few minutes later. Apparently Lynz was _ecstatic_ he’d called and would be here tomorrow to help them.

_Great._

The rest of the evening trudged on as Gerard ranted and raved about how _great_ Lynz was. 

It wasn’t like Frank was _jealous_ that Gerard clearly thought the vampire girl he’d called for help was amazing but it hurt to hear about how _great_ she was and how _nice_ it was to talk to someone other than Mikey who got the whole vampire thing.

Frank called it a night early and headed upstairs. He was tired from almost dying. Again. 

Definitely didn’t have anything to do with Lynz.

The sun rose behind thick clouds after a fitful sleep.

Tires crunched along the forest floor. Gerard’s _friend_ was here. Instead of the doorbell ringing a woman’s voice called out.

“You going to open up Gee? I can’t get onto the porch.”

_Ha!_ Frank thought.

He couldn’t help the pang of jealousy that ran through him as Gerard bounced over to the door. 

He tore it open and wrapped his arms around the pale woman standing at the edge of the porch. Her hair was gathered in two pigtails, she wore red lipstick and was wearing a leather jacket. She was cool. She was pretty. To top it off she was taller than Frank too. 

But she wasn’t alone. 

Peeking out from behind her was a face Frank knew well. He knew the freckles on her cheeks and ring in her lip. He knew the baggy sweater and jeans with knee patches on them- he’d been the one to sew them on. 

“Jamia?”

“Frank?”

“You two know each other?” Gerard turned to face Frank but Frank wasn’t looking at him. He was looking at Jamia.

“She’s my ex.”

Lynz’s eyebrows raised and Gerard’s jaw clenched. “Oh.”


	4. I'll tell you about holes; but first, you need to stop digging.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> JAMIA AND LYNZ!!!!!!! Look I just love punk girlfriends, okay? I wanted to write them as actual characters instead of supports for Frank and Gerard’s relationship or crutches for their character development. They both have their own flaws- Jamia is impulsive and Lynz can be mean without realizing it. But they’re both kind and caring and willing to help old friends. We stan well rounded female characters here.
> 
> Self harm warning in this chapter. If you still want to read it please message me @patron-saint on tumblr and I can give you an edited version without the self harm!

  
  


Jamia’s life was filled with uncertainty.

She was restless from a young age her parents had said. Always running off at dusk and throwing rocks at streetlights. She’d argued she wasn’t restless, she just liked the dark. They hadn’t taken exceptional comfort in that.

She didn’t apply for university, although she could’ve gotten into the local community college with her B+ average. She’d gotten a job at a music store selling clarinets to kids with braces and acoustic guitars to twenty-something men who thought they were the next Bob Dylan (as it turns out they were all just misogynists with thesauruses). She didn’t mind the space next to rock bottom. It had shade. It had defiance. It had Frank Iero.

They’d hit it off immediately when he’d come in to buy new guitar strings. Well, technically speaking, he had been in the process of stealing them but she’d busted him at the door. He was a lousy thief. She promised not to call the cops if he’d give her a cigarette. They’d sat on empty milk crates in the alley outside the shop.

“Nothing better to do than steal from local businesses?”

“Nothing better to do than blackmail starving artists into feeding your nicotine addiction?”

They’d exchanged numbers and, although Jamia would never admit it, she thought it was brave Frank was willing to suffer for his art. She’d gone to his show that night and the rest was history.

Until it wasn’t.

Turns out Frank just liked to suffer. Period. Whenever a light shone anywhere near him he’d just dig himself a deeper hole. Jamia could only hold her breath so long and the dirt was starting to suffocate her. 

She’d dumped him, quit her job, moved out of her apartment and packed up her car. She didn’t know where she was going but she had to  _ get out. _

Her gas tank dinged a telltale  _ empty  _ not ten miles out of town. Fuck. The next gas station was nearly deserted- it being 10pm and the surrounding towns being  _ good  _ and  _ Catholic  _ and all. 

She shuffled into the station as her gas was pumped. Headlights looked like oil paintings on the wet pavement- she had always wished she was an artist. Instead she was a twenty two year old runaway buying Doritos.

“You can’t take the last ones!”

At that moment she believed in a higher power. She believed in the neon slushy sign creating a halo and water stained walls creating wings because she was quite sure she’d found an honest to god  _ angel  _ in the 7/11. 

Sometimes you just  _ knew. _

Lyndsey (or  _ Lynz  _ as she’d yelled at her parents at six years old and stuck with ever since) had been minding her own business on her weekly  _ I kind of miss human food  _ run to the gas station closest to the forest when some total rando took  _ her  _ Doritos. Well, not hers technically speaking. But she was totally going to buy them. Who the hell did this girl think she was ruining Lynz’ evening plans of drinking cheap tequila and mindlessly scarfing down a bag of chips?

She was ready to read the shorter girl the riot act when she turned to face her. Oh.  _ Oh.  _ She had freckles that spoke whispers of the sun Lynz hadn’t seen in a year, a silver lip ring that glowed under the fluorescents like a full moon and something bubbling under her surface that could eat stars. She was a universe. 

Sometimes you just  _ knew. _

“Guess I missed that lesson in  _ 7/11 Ettiquette.”  _

“The least you could do is share.”

Jamia took in the girl’s appearance compared to her own rumpled one. Her hair was washed but that was about all she had going for her. Her clothes were wrinkled and her sweater was a hand me down from her brother. She had duct tape around one of her shoes. The other girl was sleek.  _ Shiny.  _ Her red lips matched her low cut tank top and her skin tight black jeans stopped just above Doc Marten oxfords. Jamia wondered if she was cold.

“Fine.” Jamia wasn’t just agreeing because the taller girl was pretty and she was feeling impulsive and words like  _ fate  _ and  _ destiny  _ were swimming around her head. It wasn’t the only reason anyways.

She wrenched open her car door with the other girl,  _ Lynz  _ she’d learned, behind her.

The bag of chips sat open in between the two front seats. Jamia was silent as Lynz leaned over to her. Neither touched the chips.

Sometimes you just  _ knew. _

“So where are you going?”

“Away.”

“Why?”

“Because.”

“No.”

“What?”

Lynz caught Jamia’s chin on the tip on her finger and tilted her head up. 

“I think you’re too passionate to do things without meaning. You’re not the type who can fake apathy. There’s, like, fucking spotlights behind your eyes or something because everything around you  _ glows.  _ And I know this sounds insane because I’m just some chick who you just met who wanted your chips but- fuck- you look like a galaxy.”

Jamia’s breath came in short spurts.  _ This was insane.  _ “And?”

“I like astronomy.”

Neither moved but somehow they were kissing. Somehow Jamia was in Lynz’ lap in the passenger seat. Somehow a decision was made for a question that was never asked.

Sometimes you just  _ knew. _

She was surprised by how cold Lynz was-  _ how metallic.  _ But she didn’t care. She’d finally found someone as batshit insane as she was. 

Rain battered down on the roof but neither could hear it over the rushing in their ears.

They drove off two hours later, after Lynz had said a few goodbyes, and hadn’t looked back since. They ate the chips on the way to their first motel stop.

Jamia was travelling aimlessly around the country with someone she’d met in a 7/11- who, as it turned out, was a vampire. It had taken a solid 48 hours for her to forgive Lynz for not telling her. But forgive her, she did. Because black only looked dark in the light and red lipstick marks suited her thighs. They became inseparable- and then they became more. 

She loved it- the freedom of the wind, the new things she and Lynz learned about each other every day, the smell of pavement, the way Lynz’ hair looked at night. 

It was beautiful- the uncertainty. 

Well, that was, until she’d seen Frank on the porch. It was then she realized she couldn’t live her life in a bubble forever. Couldn’t keep running when things got hard. Couldn’t keep Lynz just to herself. She had to grow up. Had to step into the light.

Sometimes you just  _ knew. _

She took Lynz’ hand. “Frank?”

\--------

_ Look,  _ Gerard hadn’t invited Lynz to make Frank jealous. If that was a side effect of her being there to help them for Totally Legitimate Reasons than that really wasn’t his fault. Did he  _ kind of  _ want Frank to see him making inside jokes with his never-actually-a-girlfriend-but-totally-would’ve-dated-her-if-he-had-the-balls-to-ask-her-out? Sure. Sue him. He was touch starved and Frank made his skin burn like dry ice and he needed fucking  _ something.  _ A salve of some sort. So he called the only other person besides Mikey who didn’t think he was a freak and conveniently took Latin as an elective before she’d dropped out of university. 

What he didn’t expect was for Frank to have that salve as well.

The sound of coffee sputtering into the pot did little to cut through the silence in the room. Mikey had refused to be a part of whatever was going to happen and draged Ray upstairs with him claiming the four needed  _ room to talk so we can move on to actually fucking important things. _

Lynz and Jamia sat on one side of the table, holding hands, with Gerard and Frank on the other, passing a cigarette back and forth. 

“So how long have you two been together?”

“I’m shocked you finally had the guts to ask someone out.” Lynz laughed adding onto her girlfriend’s question.

“What-”

“No-”

“We-”

“Not dating-”

“Very much not dating.”

They froze in their chairs, Frank’s hand half way to Gerard’s lips to retrieve the cigarette for his turn.

“Why would you even think that?”

Frank shot Gerard a look that he hoped said  _ why are you even asking? Obviously we just have undeniable chemistry. _

Jamia sighed. She knew all of Frank’s looks well. Apparently he’d fallen for some guy that didn’t love him back. Typical. He always felt too much.

Lynz, on the other hand, knew all of Gerard’s looks. He’d apparently fallen for some guy who he wouldn’t let himself love. Typical. He always self sabotaged. 

“He just looks like your type is all.”

“What’s Frank’s type?” Gerard surprised even himself with how fast he’d asked the question.

Frank’s face reddened.

Jamia, on the other hand, looked positively delighted.

“Dark hair, bossy, penchant for running away,” she took a sip of coffee, “would pull his hair in bed.”

“Okay, you know what-” The rest of Frank’s response was cut off by an impressive coughing fit from Gerard who looked like he’d rather be anywhere else on earth. 

“How’ve you been? Other than, uh, repressed?” Lynz smiled at Gerard.

“Funny Lynz. Very funny. I’ve been good, great, alright. I met Frank- he yelled at me in the woods and now we’re best friends-”

“Totally not how that happened-”

“Yeah it was!”

Despite the admittedly awkward situation they’d stumbled into, Frank couldn’t help but glow at Gerard calling him his best friend. They smiled at each other and Frank felt whatever odd energy that had been festering since Gerard called Lynz fade away.

“So- vampire cure?” Jamia raised a brow at the two men across from them. 

“Look I know it sounds insane-”

“Yeah it kinda does.” Lynz’ voice didn’t sound mean, as she cut Gerard off, it sounded pitying. It was then it hit Frank and Gerard that they were the couple’s charity case. 

“Hey, this is real okay. Mikey and Ray agree- it’s not just us!” Frank turned his gaze on Lynz. “Wouldn’t you want a cure?”

“No, I like who I am Frank. You might want to try it sometime.” Jamia wanted to defend her ex and tell Lynz not to be mean, but, well. She was right. That was the problem with Frank. He hated himself and refused to exist in an environment where everything wasn’t just a little bit gloomy. 

“Don’t say that shit to Frank!”

“Gerard I’m not trying to start something. I’m just saying this is dangerous and I hope  _ both  _ of you have thought this through.”

“We have.” Frank passed Gerard the cigarette. He took a last drag and snubbed it out in the heart shaped ashtray. 

“Let’s see the notes then.”

Jamia and Lynz agreed to help after rifling through the messily scrawled notes and leather bound journal. Mikey and Ray had come back downstairs to help separate the list of ingredients and herbs from the instructions themselves. Lynz needed some resources in town to do a proper translation so her and Jamia were going to stay at a motel next to the small public library in the nearby town. They would fax over the completed translation once Lynz had transcribed it into simple English. Frank, Gerard, Mikey and Ray would continue gathering herbs in the forest. Frank was pleased with the arrangement- he didn’t want Lynz and Jamia sticking around the woods long enough to meet the energy vampire. No one mentioned it to them- he knew they would insist on staying to help if they knew.

Papers and dust coated the kitchen table as several sets of hands tried to organize them. Neither Frank or Jamia could keep still. They prodded at everything and clicked pens incessantly. Jamia kept snapping Lynz’ bra strap when she was bored and Frank put an icecube down the back of Gerard’s hoodie when he felt everything was going too smoothly. They were both banished to wait on the porch.

Mikey was pretty sure they both had ADHD.

Jamia strummed absentmindedly at Frank’s guitar they’d brought outside to entertain themselves. 

“I’m happy you’re playing again.” 

“Me too.”

The opening chords of Blackbird rang out from Jamia’s fingers.

A rare break in the clouds spilled sunlight onto the pair. Both flinched, used to looking out for their vampire counterparts. 

Frank slouched down next to her on the steps. 

“How do you and Lynz do it?”

“Gross Frank!”

“No not- ew- you know what I mean. Vampire. Human. How do you do it?”

The song stopped.

“Not everyone dedicates themselves to suffering. Not everyone needs to purify themselves in a pyre made of guilt and shared cigarettes. Some people just let themselves be happy you know.”

Frank’s brows drew together.  _ He wasn’t choosing to do this! He wasn’t trying to keep Gerard away! _

“Do you think I’m doing this to myself on purpose? What the hell J?”

She put down his guitar and ground her teeth together. “You’re fucking dense sometimes Frank. No, I don’t think you’re doing this on purpose. Whatever  _ this,”  _ she gestured widely around the old house and woods, “is. I think that some people just need to be in pain to remind themselves they’re still living and that you and Gerard are both those types of people.”

“How do I fix that?”

“I don’t know, Frank, get a therapist. Ask her.”

He couldn’t help but laugh. He’d always loved how blunt Jamia was. She laughed too and lit up a cigarette for each of them. 

“I’m happy for you and Lynz- really. But-”

“But?”

“You need to stop assuming everything will end. You’ve had those shoes for seven years.” He pointed down at the duct tape patched toe of her converse. “Why haven’t you got new ones.”

“They’ll just break too.”

“Does it bother you that Lynz doesn’t want the cure?”

“No.” Frank could see in her eyes she was being honest.

“I’ve never really understood you.”

Jamia laughed but her eyes looked plyingly sad. “I know that.” She paused, and then- “it’s because you can’t see out of your grave. If you put down your shovel for a second you might be able to help Gerard put down his as well, you know.”

“Then what?”

“Then you both climb out.”

They smoked in silence for a bit. Frank picking at his laces and Jamia peeling flecks of paint from the peeling porch.

She smiled and took his wrist. Her fingers ran over the raised ink of the bat. 

“That’s new.”

“Gerard drew it. My birthday tattoo.”

“I like it.”

Quiet settled over them as Jamia struggled with what to say. She wanted to tell Frank to say  _ fuck it  _ and march inside and kiss Gerard. She wanted to tell him not to give up his chance. Because she’d gotten hers- her impulsive, crazy decision that changed her life. She didn’t want Frank to miss his. Instead she picked the guitar back up and continued playing Blackbird.

“You need to buy new shoes.”

“I know.”

After appropriately distributed sandwiches and blood, Jamia and Ray catching up (which mainly consisted of telling old, embarrassing stories about Frank- much to Mikey’s delight), and a rousing game of Are The Clouds Thick Enough To Run To The Car Without Getting Caught In A Ray of Sunlight, Jamia and Lynz piled into the station wagon to drive back to town and start their research.

\------

They sat at a library table, notes and borrowed books spread out, as warm lamp light glowed. Rain pelted at the windows. Lynz’ pen glided across her page. Jamia wiggled her toes in her new red conserve. 

\------

Mikey had disappeared to do whatever it was Mikey did in the evenings before proper night settled in and they would be forced to trudge back out into the woods to gather herbs.

Ray had gone upstairs, leaving Gerard and Frank on the couch.

“So our exes are dating.” 

Gerard snorted. “Lynz and I didn’t technically date.”

“If you have to say  _ technically  _ then it’s close enough.”

Gerard watched as the television light cast blue shadows on the old blood stains on the carpet. Frank’s life had been so pristine before he’d met Gerard. Before he showed up and made it all a scrubbed out pink. 

“What were you and Jamia talking about outside? You don’t have to say I just-”

Frank shifted on the couch. His leg pressed up against Gerard’s, who relished in the warmth. 

“What did you think we were talking about?”

“I don’t know- she’s your ex.” Gerard refused to meet Frank’s eyes because he did know. He knew Frank had been dying to ask her how a human and vampire made it work since he’d seen her on the gravel outside. 

Frank sighed. He knew Gerard was lying. 

“Are you cold?”

“I’m always cold Frank. Part of the whole vampire thing, in case you forgot.”

Frank shifted over a cushion, so their sides were pressed together. He let his head fall back on Gerard’s shoulder.

“Better?”

“Yeah.”

Gerard didn’t let himself breath in. Frank's scent would be too much. That hazy warm smell with the blue light and the blood on the floor. With the way he could hear Frank’s heart and the way his lips looked around his cigarette. It would be too much.

But there it was anyway. The smell of blood. It wasn’t Frank’s though. It drifted down the stairs from the upper floor bathroom. 

The front door creaked open and Mikey appeared with a concerned look on his face as he gazed up the stairs. The brothers made eye contact.

“What’s happening-”

A scream cut off Frank’s question.

\----

It was too much. The translations. The list of ingredients. The pressure. The fucking vampire that was stalking them. He was too on edge to traipse through a haunted forest right now- but they needed his help. 

Ray figured he would calm down the best way he knew. After Mikey left and Frank and Gerard had gotten distracted by the television, he snuck up to the bathroom. 

There was nothing poetic or beautiful about cutting yourself. There was no wine darkened sea of blood. No freedom in the steel. Ophelia did not look down on him as a tragic guardian angel. It was just cold and painful and then Ray felt better. 

Usually.

But this time the lights looked all wrong in the bathroom. They cast slick black shadows on his arm. They coated the razorblade in something that would scare the night. Ray tried to blink away the jumble of images in front of him but his eyes were plastered open with spiderwebs. 

His mind made sense of the scene in front of him suddenly and he wished it hadn’t. He wished it would have hung around his periphery like a vulture waiting for something to die, not dive in and rip him open like a bird of prey. 

The thin cut along his arm wasn’t bleeding. It was oozing.

Thick, black sludge dripped from the cut, along his forearm, and off his fingers. It coated the back of his throat and started to drip from his eyes.

Ray screamed.

\----

When he woke up he was still in the bathroom. But the lights were right again. Just normal fluorescents. 

His friends were also there.

Frank was putting away a first aid kit and Ray looked down to see his arm now bandaged. Mikey and Gerard hung back at the door like they weren’t sure if they should be there.

Ray normally would’ve been mortified that he’d been seen like this- so vulnerable. But he was still too scared. 

“I- look- it wasn’t blood okay? I did it and it was- it was  _ something  _ else.” 

“You were bleeding. We smelled it.” Mikey took a step inside the bathroom as his brows drew together. 

He searched the floor and prodded at his arm. Red blossomed on the white gauze. No black sludge.

“But I- when I did it this black goo was oozing out and fucking- it was in my eyes- it was everywhere!”

“The energy vampire.”

Frank looked over at Gerard. He hadn’t said a word since Ray had woken up. 

“You think  _ it  _ did this to Ray?”

“No, I mean, Ray, uh, cut himself, sure. But the energy vamp is getting stronger from our fear. I think it’s getting more powers. Like giving us visions and stuff.”

Silence encapsulated them. 

“Can you guys-” Frank nodded over at Mikey and Gerard.

“Yep.”

“Sure.”

Frank sat down on the tile floor next to Ray.

“You said-”

“I know.”

“You’re still doing it.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize to me.  _ I’m sorry  _ that I’ve been so wrapped up in my own shit I didn’t realize you were cutting again.”

“You asked me Frank. You did your due diligence as a friend. I just lied.”

“No more secrets?” Frank held up his pinky to Ray.

He wanted to make fun of his friend but Franked looked dead serious.

“No more secrets.” He wrapped his pinky around Frank’s and shook.

“If you’re going to do it again at least like text me or something. So this,” he gestures to the bathroom floor where Ray had passed out after the energy vampire’s visions, “doesn’t happen again.”

“Alright.”

Neither made a move to get off the floor.

“Lynz seems pretty cool, hey?”

Ray groaned. “Do  _ not  _ tell me you have a crush on her.”

“I do not! I just think she’s cool!”

“Having a crush on you crush’s ex and your ex’s current girlfriend would be the single most Frank Iero thing ever. I had to check.”

“Oh, shove it. Like your love life is going sooooo well. Unless you want to tell me anything about Mikey?” Frank wiggled his eyebrows.

Ray lightly prodded him in the ribs as he blushed. “Nothing is going on with Mikey. I don’t even like him. Not that I dislike him. He’s just- I don’t know. He uses a lot of hair gel.”

“He uses a lot of hair gel? Is that a euphemism?”

“Ew, no! It would just like, get everywhere.”

“Everywhere? Like when you’re fucking him and-”

The swung open tentatively.

“Fucking who?” Gerard asked as he looked between the two of them while Mikey looked horrified in the background. Ray prayed he hadn’t heard anything.

“I’m going to kill you.” Ray cut Frank a look who had dissolved into giggles. Ray couldn’t help himself and dropped the facade and started laughing as well.

Gerard looked at them like they were insane. They probably were.

“So, Mikey and I were thinking it would be best if we still went out. Him and Ray can stay here and me and Frank can go into the woods.”

Ray stood up at that, followed shortly (ha) by Frank.

“No way! I’m still going!”

“Not in these woods you’re not.” Mikey rolled his eyes. “Look, Gerard and I can handle ourselves but there’s other vamps in the forest and  _ you  _ have an open wound. So no. You’re not going.”

Ray deflated. “Fine, but if you insist on taking care of me you’d better make me soup or something.”

“He will.” Frank nodded over at Mikey. “Probably wear a little nurse’s outfit too! With a dress or some-” 

Gerard made a gagging sound and slapped his hand over Frank’s mouth as Ray threw crumpled up bandaid wrappers at him.

“Say another word and  _ I will  _ bite you.”

“Is that supposed to be a deterrent?”

\------

Frank’s boots snapped small twigs as he walked and Gerard padded silently next to him. Their hands were intertwined. Gerard had insisted after their last energy vamp incident that Frank would be safer this way. Frank wouldn’t think of a single complaint.

They shone their flashlights against rough tree bark looking for a spongy gold moss.

The beam of Gerard’s caught Frank as he twirled it to a new tree. 

For once in his life Frank didn’t shy away from the light.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What's this? Frank? Accepting support and love from other people? And what's that? Gerard willing reaching out to his loved ones in a non destructive way? Ohhhhhhh
> 
> PS I promise plot and relationships will start moving along soon. I just think some emotional groundwork needed to be done first!
> 
> PSS I'm sorry I've been such a slow updater! I'm trying to get back on a proper schedule now!
> 
> I want to dedicate this chapter to gas-station-vampire on tumblr who sent me the nicest message about this fic that convinced me to start writing again!


	5. Almost only counts in horseshoes and hand grenades

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to this week’s episode of Repressed Emos in the Woods…..
> 
> KK, but actually, I love writing this fic. Updates are slow because honestly I’m busy as fuck. But when I get a chance to write I enjoy it so much. 
> 
> I think there will be two (maybe three) more chapters in this fic. After that I’m going to start on that last fic in the series. :) Thank you all for sticking around!
> 
> Self harm is mentioned in this chapter in passing but nothing explicit happens. 

The worst part was never when it appeared- it was the anticipation. 

They hadn’t been on a trip into the woods at night without the energy vampire finding them, so, deep down, Frank  _ had  _ been expecting it. He, of course, hadn’t voiced these thoughts to anyone else as Ray and Mikey would’ve then insisted they didn’t go. 

What he was left with was a swirl of paranoia and flinching gestures. 

Him and Gerard had been gone three hours so far and had found four ingredients. It was going too well. The hair on the back of Frank’s neck stood up. But nothing came.

Shadows twisted into faces. He saw the wrinkled lines of his grandmother’s eyes. Saw Sweet Pea’s soft ears. Heard the laugh of his best friend John, who’d killed himself a few years back. 

But nothing came. Sometimes the dark just played tricks on your eyes.

No oozing black liquid or snarling jaws. 

Just the woods.

Just a vampire.

Gerard had been casting worried glances his way for the past half hour and Frank was nearing breaking point when he finally spoke.

“You’ve been, uh, kinda jumpy. You okay?” 

The words were casual enough but the softness in his eyes, the genuine fucking concern, knocked the breath out of Frank’s nicotine rattled lungs.

He couldn’t even find it in himself to be mad. Not when he’d just seen his friend cut himself open because  _ he wasn’t okay.  _

Speaking of which, Gerad had looked spooked ever since he’d seen Ray but Frank figured this wasn’t the time to dig in.

“Fine- I just,” he watched as a particular pine rolled into the shape of the armchair Frank had found his father dead in so many years ago. “I just have this feeling that energy vamp is following us.”

He let the last words out in a rush, afraid they themselves might summon it. 

“I’m sure it’s nothing.” The dismissive tone was easy to see through as he moved closer to Frank.

“So,” Frank kicked a pebble along their illy lit path to the purple mint leaves they were currently looking for, “what do you see?”

Gerard flinched visibly at the question.

“The forest. We’re in a forest Frank. I see the forest.” 

Something stiff and electric passed between them as Gerard refused to acknowledge the darkness tugging on both their minds. They knew they were being stalked. They were always being stalked. They lived in a forest with an energy vampire. 

It was just a matter of how far away it was.

Frank resisted the urge to reach out for Gerard’s hand.

The night was so cold on his neck it almost felt wet.

“Do you think it’s going to find us tonight?” He turned to whisper the question to Gerard but found they had drifted together and were already walking side by side.

“If you think it’s going to find us why did you come?”

“I never said that.”

“Well do you?”

“Yeah.”

Gerard sighed.

“So why’d you come?”

Frank let the question roll around in his head but couldn’t find a single answer that wasn’t incriminating- so he settled for the truth.

“‘Cause I know you would’ve gone out by yourself.”

“So?” Gerard knew it was dumb- to make it sound like a challange. To make it sound like a  _ what if.  _ Frank wasn’t good at the what if game. He was too honest. It scared Gerard. 

He kicked another odd shaped pebble on their path.

In the space before Frank’s answer the forest fell down.

Well, it didn’t so much fall down as slow down. Slog beside them like day old molasses left open in the kitchen. 

They weren’t pebbles.

Pebbles weren’t ivory like piano keys. Didn’t rattle like Waterloo. Didn’t smell of death.

Littered along their path were hundreds of little bones. Bile rose in Frank’s throat as his shoes crunched upon more.

Small bits of pink flesh still clung to some while others were sun bleached with age. It took a long time for the sun’s rays to reach anything in woods this dark- they must’ve been building up for millenia.

Frank’s too long fringe stuck to his lip as he trashed around to see a similar look of horror on Gerard’s face. 

Oh.  _ Oh.  _ He was seeing it too. This was real.

The clearing in the forest they stood in was filled with bones.

Ice crept up Frank’s spine as his feet were cemented to the floor. He felt helium sink into the crevasses of his brain. No matter where he stepped he would be crushing some poor thing’s remains. The intrinsic human need to perverse memories kept him rooted to his spot.

Gerard had no such reservations for the past as he saw something sticky and black start to circle them from the shadows.

“Frank.”

“Yeah?” He barely recognized his own voice. It wasn’t raspy with fear nor was it cracking with anxiety. It was simply removed. Forgeign. He didn’t even register opening his mouth to talk. 

“I think- I think this is a hallucination. A joint one. The vamp, it found us. We need to run.”

Gerard’s hand closed, cool and warm, against Frank’s.

“What if it’s not?”

“Do you want it to add us to the pile then?”

Frank swallowed. Now wasn’t the time to freeze up. 

When Frank was young he played in little league baseball. It was one of the few times his parents would make amends and sit within 50 feet of each other. His dad always bragged to all his friends about  _ his Frankie’s great throwing arm.  _ The trouble was Frank had never  _ really  _ thrown anything before. His coach would drag him through practices and try to pep him up before games. Tell him how much the team was relying on him. 

He always came down with a stomach ache minutes before the game would start. 

He would stay on the bench.

Now wasn’t the time to freeze up.

He squeezed Gerard’s hand and jolted them left as they took off running together.

Gravel (he hoped) flew off their sneakers and sweat started to blister at their hairlines. Neither slowed. 

Gerard’s heart rate picked up as they ran. Not just because he was out of shape. Not just because he smoked. 

It wasn’t one shadow that was catching his eye,  _ it was multiple.  _

Bile rose in his throat as he realized what that meant. There wasn’t just one energy vampire in the forest. 

The sky cracked green and blue and all sorts of artificial colours as they ran. Branches turned to snakes and the earth beneath them moved all sea sick and peach.

Frank caught himself on a tree as they ran and the branches tore through his hoodie into his torso. The sharp rip took away his breath as a white hot jolt filled his head with lava.

Real desperation set in moments later. Gerard hadn’t even noticed he was bleeding. He was so terrified for them he hadn’t even noticed Frank’s blood. 

They were fucked, Frank decided. 

Trees continued to twist into grins and the night sky clasped around their throats as they ran into a clearing. They could barely tell what was real anymore. 

Despite the energy vampires and their lurching stomachs they felt a distinct calm settle over them.

Maybe calm was a strong word.

They were sweaty and wild eyed. Not trusting anything but their own hands and each other. But the ultra violet fear had left them. They had lost the vampires.

Frank almost laughed as he saw what they had found instead.

The trailer.

Gerad and Mikey’s old home sat silver and rusty as ever in the pines.

Gerard’s voice was like glass as he spoke between ragged breaths. “Guess we should go in.”

Frank’s torso screamed in pain as he followed Gerard up the three steps. 

The walls looked bare without Gerard’s drawings and Frank felt guilty they lived there as long as they did as a draft swirled through the place. 

Gerard seemed jittery and flinched as he paced the length of the trailer, phone in hand.

“Are you o-”

“I’m texting.”

Frank tried not to let his hurt bleed through as Gerard cut him off.

He preoccupied himself with watching the way Gerard’s fingers slid across the keys and counting his own heart rate as it slowed to a more normal pace. He split the blinds briefly to peek outside. Nothing. Probably. Hopefully.

Maybe.

Fucking vampires. 

He tried not to think about his own blood currently plastering his hoodie to his side. He considered getting up to wash it off in the cramped bathroom but figured the scent of that would undoubtedly draft over to Gerard. 

Instead he settled for pulling the thread on the scratchy sofa that sat across from the kitchen. 

It was a trailer like any other. The door opened to a combination living room/ dining room/ kitchen. The sofa sat against the far wall across from the counter and fridge/sink/oven combo. Next to the couch was a booth with a linoleum table in between the two benches. A thin hallway, with a bathroom through the left hand door, lead to the bedroom. Gerard had told Frank he and Mikey took turns sleeping in it while the other would take the sofa. 

“Is everything, uh, okay?” The silence had dragged on too long and Frank’s skin grew prickly in it.

Gerard looked over at Frank, his pupils blown and lips wet. “Yeah. Just texting Mikey and Ray.”

“Right.”

A beat of silence passed.

“To tell them?”

“About the vamp. We can’t make it back at night. It’s-  _ they’re -  _ too strong. We have to wait until it’s cloudy tomorrow and make a break for it.”

“I know.”

“But Mikey and Ray  _ don’t.  _ So I’m texting them.”

“I know! You’ve been doing that for like ten minutes now.”

Frank couldn't decipher the thick energy between them until he saw the way Gerard’s nose twitched. Oh. 

“It’s real you know.” Frank gestured down to his scratched up side.

“Wh- what? I thought- the energy vampire. I thought it was a vision. Frank you’re  _ hurt?”  _ The way his voice broke on his name was enough to move Frank to forgiveness. He didn’t think it was real; that’s why he hadn’t done anything. 

Frank decided to ignore the fact that meant one of Gerard’s worst fears was Frank bleeding beside him. Frank being injured. Frank being  _ hurt.  _

Gerard dropped his phone as he edged skittishly into Frank’s personal space on the sofa. A text lit up his screen.  **B safe. See u tmrw.**

A second text buzzed.  **How do you make soup?**

Gerard joined Frank on the couch; his breath tickled the side of Frank’s face. Cool hands pulled gingerly at the cotton fabric of Frank’s shirt. 

“You need to take it off.” 

“Are you hitting on me?”

“What, no! So, uh, cleaning it. So we can clean it.”

Frank cracked a smile. He figured he was allowed to be a dick because he was  _ injured  _ after all.

“Asshole.” Gerard smiled back.

Frank winced as he pulled the shirt over his head. His side throbbed as the adrenaline wore off.

“There should be some stuff in the bathroom.” Gerard was doing his best to look everywhere but at Frank.

“Righ-” Before he could finish Gerard had bolted into the bathroom.

Frank followed. 

“If it’s too much with the blood and all, you know you don’t have to-”

“I want to.”

“Okay.” Frank watched as Gerard slammed antiseptic and gauze onto the bathroom counter. He took a deep breath and popped the window.

Gerard hestited with an antiseptic soaked cotton pad a few inches away from Frank. 

“This is going to hurt.”

“I know.” 

Neither were talking about the cut.

A cold hand gripped Frank’s side to turn him to the flickering fluorescent light. He knew this wasn’t going to end well as he felt his blood squelch between Gerard’s hand that had been placed a bit too low in a moment of distraction.

Gerard’s body tensed and he didn’t realize what he was doing until his fingers were in his mouth.

Fuck.

Fuck!

_ Oh God. This was bad. This was very bad. Him and Frank were in a good place. Well, maybe not the best place but they’d been worse off. And he ruined it. He licked the blood off his fingers like Frank’s open wound was fucking Fundip. _

_ FUCK! _

He dropped the cotton pad.

“That was-”

“Yep.”

“Sorry-”

“It’s fine. Maybe I’ll just-” Frank picked up the gauze and pressed it to his side. He opened the curtain that blocked the bathroom off from the hall and looked at Gerard. 

He got the message.

“I’ll be right out here if you,” he sighed as Frank dragged the curtain back across, cutting him off from the bathroom as he waited in the hall, “need any help.”

There was no answer.

He tried to distract himself from the guilt by letting his eyes flit around the trailer. He saw an empty bag of Doritios, a few loose cigarettes, a nickel. He heard the even hiss of Frank’s breath as he cleaned his wound, rain on the tin roof, the scratch of pine needles on the trailer’s siding. He smelled mildew, old coffee, blood. Maybe letting his mind wonder wasn’t his best idea.

He caught a glimpse of Frank in the sliver of doorway not covered by the curtain. He was bathed in a warm light. Gerard had time to linger. To observe the way ink curled itself so naturally onto his skin. He hadn’t seen a lot of them before; they tried not to spend too much time in states of undress around one another. The flame above his left nipple, across his flushed chest, gave Gerard’s mind far too much fodder for chilly nights. 

And there it was again, the smell. Objectively  _ all  _ blood smelled good to him. He was a vampire after all. But despite popular belief, they had control of themselves- they weren’t bloodthirsty monsters. Okay  _ fine,  _ technically they were bloodthirsty monsters but it wasn’t  _ like that.  _ They didn’t jump any human with a pulse to use as their own personal Capri Suns. Blood was a lot like wine. There was always personal preference to account for. Mikey, for example, had a thing about O Negative. Wouldn’t drink it if he was starving to death. Gerard couldn’t say he particularly disliked any blood but he did particularly  _ like  _ some blood. There was something about the smell of Frank’s that made his mouth water. And the first time he tasted it,  _ oh,  _ he was done for after that.

It was like his favourite painting had blossomed in technicolour across his tongue. 

Frank caught his eye through the sliver in the curtain. Gerard blushed and looked down.

“I’m going to check the cupboards for something to eat.”

Frank knew he meant tins of blood. He also knew there weren’t any. He’d scoured the trailer while Gerard had been texting and brooding earlier.

“Okay.” A beat passed. “Good luck.” 

He tossed his shredded, bloody shirt into the trashcan and thought about Gerard’s lingering look from earlier.

_ It wasn’t fucking fair,  _ he thought as he taped the gauze to his disinfected side. Gerard clearly still had feelings for him, or, at the very least wanted to fuck him. And that would be enough to at least tide him over for a bit. Like a man in a desert Frank would take anything at this point. 

Something was going to break and it was going to break soon. The delicate friendship they'd built after their almost-something-but-not-quite was naive. People like them didn't live in tension like this. You didn't throw two magnets at each other in a room full of fine china and expect nothing to shatter. 

Because that was the worst part. That they were almost. They were resin set in pins and needles around each other. Showing two miserable people a moment of happiness and then taking it away? It was cruelty of a particular breed. It was the cruelty of a line painted with tenderness because the artist wasn't allowed to touch. It was the cruelty of Ginsberg's honest poetics ruining his life. It was the cruelty of tears rolling down an opera singer's cheek because they knew they could only hold it for a second more.

Frank fucking _wanted_ with everything in his body. But he knew he couldn't have it. Was happiness with another person really too much to ask? 

He groaned lightly as he stretched. His side hurt, his head hurt, his wrist hurt. Was that a fever? Maybe he was getting sick. Or was he in love? He wished he had some cough syrup so he could figure out which. 

Frank felt twitchy with it by the time he left the bathroom. 

“I didn't find any.”

“Didn’t really think you would.”

“Found you a shirt though.” a soft black shirt was handed over and Frank was surprised by how well it fit him. Gerard usually preferred his clothes baggy. 

“One of Mikey’s?”

Gerard shifted slightly. “Uh, no, one of Lynz’s she left here.”

Frank’s eye darted to the mirror.  _ GIRL POWER  _ was spelled out across the front in pink glittery letters.

“Cool.”

Gerard caught this eye and they laughed despite the tension in the air. They settled into a silence. Frank saw Gerard looking at the bloody gauze in the bathroom.

“If you need-”

“I’ll be okay tonight, you know. I ate before we left.”

“Right, it’s just earlier-”

“Yeah I was there for that  _ very  _ embarrassing moment- thanks for reminding me.”

Frank ran a hand through his hair.  _ Fuck, Gerard could be stubborn. _

“It’s just that you keep saying it’s fine but you licking my blood off your hands really makes me think  _ it’s not fine. _ ”

“It  _ is fine _ . You’re just- it’s hard to stay away from-”

“From what?” Frank’s voice was barely above an answer as he stepped closer to Gerard in the hall. 

“You’re different than the rest, Frank. It’s hard to stay away from you.”

Something fragile hung above them.

“You seem to do a pretty good job of it.”

Frank liked breaking things.

“What about Jamia?”

“What  _ about  _ Jamia?”

They stood nose to nose in the narrow, wood paneled hallway, each with their back against a wall. A soft yellow light shone down from the low ceiling and rain tapped on the roof. Neither made to move.

“Frank, sometimes you act like I’m the only person who’s ever hurt someone.”

“She broke up with me, not the other way around.”

“Oh.”

Frank could tell Gerard wasn’t angry. He wasn’t either, not really. There was just so much goddamn tension around them all the time it was hard not to blow up.

“ She just left town one day. Packed up all her shit with barely an explanation and left.”

Gerard’s lips parted slightly. He wanted to tell Frank he didn’t deserve it, but, he wasn’t sure that was true. What he did know was that Frank deserved love in his life. He was so open and the world had screwed him over a million times; yet, he still walked around his heart pinned proudly to his sleeve.

Gerard kept his locked up. And buried. In cement.

“Are you scared of people leaving you? Is that what you saw in the forest?”

Frank pictured his Grandmother and Sweet Pea. His father and his old friend. Yeah. He was fucking terrified.

If he told Gerard the truth he wondered if Gerard would return the favour. Tell him what he saw in the forest. More than anything Frank wanted to protect him from that haunted look in his eyes. 

He nodded.

“I was the one who found my dad. He was in his armchair after a night of drinking. He passed out there a lot so I figured it wasn’t a big deal. I wanted to borrow his car so I kept trying to wake him up. Took me a while to realize he was dead.” Frank tucked his hands in his pockets and shrugged. “Everyone goes away in the end.”

Gerard was silent. He didn’t know what to say. Frank had been through too many shitty things in too short a time. Wasn’t God supposed to space them out or something? All the sour at once wasn’t a great first sip of life.

“What about you?” Frank watched Gerard’s drawn brow and sad eyes. “I told you mine. What did you see in the forest? Afraid of people leaving too?”

“I’m more the running away type.”

Frank wanted to brush past it, let him have an out. But something kept tugging on the back of his mind. Gerard’s reaction to Ray's cutting, how, even when he was helping him dye his hair or when he was in a t shirt for Halloween he kept his wrists covered, the way Mikey watched him like a fucking hawk when he used a razor blade to sharpen his pencils. 

Oh.  _ Oh.  _

Gerard wasn’t as oblivious as people thought. It was a defense mechanism more than anything. If he pretended he didn’t see the judgmental way people looked at him, or the way they frowned at the things he said, it seemed less real. Less personal. But Gerard couldn’t help but let the look on Frank’s face seep deeply into his soul. He had figured it out. Or, at the very least, was in the process of figuring it out.

“You don’t have to talk about it.” Something close to honesty bubbled around them.

“I know. I-” he sighed. Frank deserved this. The truth. Maybe then the tension between them would go away. Because after Gerard told him there was no way Frank would want him anymore. Breaking the pull of magnets was impossible but Gerard could keep the faith like something bitter under his tongue. “I want to tell you Frank. You might want to sit down.”

They stayed in the hall, their bubble safe from the outside world, and sunk to the floor. Each leaned against a wall as they faced each other.

Gerard lit up a cigarette and passed it to Frank before lighting one for himself. He wondered if this was the last time they would do this. 

“I’ll tell you how I got turned.”

_So this is how it all comes to a head then_ , Frank thought. This was how the levee broke. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gerard is finally letting Frank in but thinks he's going to hate him after :'(
> 
> PS if you have any song recs drop a comment! I need some new music rn <3


	6. How does love feel? It feels fucking blind!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Suicide and addiction warning in this chapter. As always please send me a message at patron-saint on tumblr for a safe version. I want to be clear that self harm and suicide are not romanticized in this. As someone who has struggled with these issues I think it is really important to be honest about them. There’s no glory in hurting yourself- it just hurts. If you need help please reach out to family, friends, a therapist or your national suicide hotline. Stay safe everyone!

“I’ll tell you how I got turned.”

Rough winds swayed the trailer and rain continued to pelt the tin roof. 

“I just need you to-” Gerard scrunched his eyes shut and ran a hand over his face, “look, just promise you won’t stop talking to me? You can hate me- just don’t stop talking to me, okay?”

Frank paused his tugging at the green shag carpet to look Gerard in the eyes. “There is _nothing_ you could do that would make me hate you. And you know I’m impossible to shut up anyways.” He nudged Gerard’s leg with the toe of his sneaker hoping to get a small smile from him.

He frowned.

“ _Promise me.”_

“Yeah, okay, I _promise.”_ The golden light above them flickered. Frank couldn’t figure out what was so bad that Gerard thought he would hate him. Something sweet in the way only rotten things were bloomed in Frank’s chest. Gerard had a horrible habit of taking his pain and his desolation and twisting it into a mountain of self loathing.

And this amount of disgust and fear at himself? Yeah, Gerard had hurt himself real bad.

Frank’s stomach clenched like he was going to be sick. 

“I think I need a drink for this. Want one?” He remembered the amber bottle under the sink from earlier when he was looking for tins of blood.

Gerard kept a white knuckle grip on a tuft of his hair like it might ground him. “Sure.”

Frank had half a mind to make him stop as he returned with their glasses of whisky. He looked ill. His hands were shaking, his breath uneven. The worst was the look in his eyes. He looked haunted by a ghost only angels knew. But he clearly felt like he needed to tell Frank. So he silently passed over the glass to Gerard.

He sat beside him this time, instead of across. On a good day Gerard had troubles with eye contact. This wasn’t a good day.

Their knees bumped together as they slouched against the hall wall. A nasty gust of wind made the trailer squeak.

They both took a healthy sip.

“I used to be in art school, a while ago, before _this_.”

“I know, I’ve seen the way you dress.” Frank saw the look Gerard cut him and for once in his long 24 years decided to shut up and let Gerard speak. He looked fucking _broken._

“I- fuck, I wasn’t doing well.” He let his voice crack and it wasn’t until Frank saw the tears in his eyes did he realize they were reflected in his own. “I was just so fucking scared of failing. Or scared of making it. I don’t really know which one. I was so in love with rock bottom that the idea of doing anything with my life seemed terrifying. But not being an artist, having people say I wasn’t good enough, was even worse. My classmates liked me then. I wasn’t used to that. They thought it was funny that I came to class drunk- if I showed up at all. They thought it was cool that I drank a bottle of vodka at a house party and almost drowned in the pool. Mikey was the only one who cared. He’s peeled me off too many floors and bandaged up too many cuts. I kept telling him I was going to get better. I knew he never believed it. I didn’t either.”

Gerard shifted then, so him and Frank were no longer touching.

“In my third year of art school I was offered an internship at The Cartoon Network. For the first time in a long time I was excited about something. Then I got there. It was all photocopying and coffee runs. Even the senior staff’s main job was paperwork. All my ideas got shot down. And I thought fuck, is this it? This is my big dream? Being stuck in an office building all day with people who’s only common ground with you is staring at a clock until 5pm? I did the math, Frankie, and I made a call. I couldn’t do that for one more fucking day, nevermind the next 40 years. I didn’t have any friends, except Mikey, and _fuck_ he had to be tired of babysitting his older brother at that point. I was a waste. The only thing I contributed to was my points card at the liquor store.”

“You’re not a waste- _Gerard.”_ Frank felt the tears on his cheeks and he was paralyzed by it. He knew exactly where this was going, what Gerard had done to himself. The cloying feeling in his throat returned. 

Gerard continued on as if he hadn’t heard him.

“It was a Wednesday. I walked out of the office midday. I called my university and dropped out. When I got home I changed into my normal clothes and left. Didn’t even leave a note for Mikey. My Grandma and Grandpa used to take Mikey and I to the edge of this forest when we were kids to pick out a Christmas tree. It was so cold and she always packed a thermos of hot chocolate. We made snow angels and I was always annoyed Mikey’s was taller than mine even though I was older.” He snorted and a humourless laugh escaped his lips. “I drove there and sat down under a tree. I drank the rest of the bottle of vodka I’d brought with me. Then I took out a razor blade and slit my wrists.” Gerard’s voice had become detached from him. His eyes were red and face puffy. His lips were pulled down in a permanent frown. He looked delicate. But his voice was clear and emotionless. Like he was telling a story about someone else. 

"You know people always say, like psychologists and stuff, right after doing it, slitting your wrists or blowing your brains out or jumping off a bridge, that split second after you do it- you feel regret. I think there’s something wrong with me.”

“Why?” His voice cracked from disuse and more than anything Frank didn’t want to know the answer.

“I was happy. For the first time in my life I was _happy.”_

Frank went to the bathroom and vomited. For the first time in his life he understood all the people that had run away from him. This much fucking sadness could make you sick. It wormed its way into your veins and ripped them out like tree roots. It clawed at your brain until only mush was left. He washed out his mouth and came back. If there was someone who understood all this sadness it was another walking tragedy. He wasn't going to leave his friend.

Gerard hadn’t moved. His eyes were fixed somewhere far away. Frank doubted he would ever know where.

“I was lying there on the ground laughing as I bled out. I was just so fucking relieved it was over. I was giddy with it. I couldn’t see that well; I’d lost a lot of blood. Everything was just stars and shapes. It was beautiful. I never saw him, but I felt him, I heard him. He was so fucking angry I’d just throw away my life when so many had lost their’s without a choice. His teeth were so sharp; it was the most painful thing I’d ever felt. He told me I didn’t get to choose when I died- only God could do that. Then he left." Gerard laughed again and this time it was mean. "A vampire found me bleeding out in the forest and turned me for wasting my life. Now I'm stuck here, wasting my life, bleeding other people out- how fucking ironic.”

Gerard finally looked over. He looked tired and cut open- like he needed a salve.

“Fuck you.” Frank was a bit too abrasive to be a salve.

“I know you hate me n-”

“No- shut the fuck up! It wasn’t beautiful Gerard. The way you talk about killing yourself like it was so goddamn romantic. It wasn’t! It was painful and cold and _lonely._ You’re not Joan of Arc. You weren’t sacrificing yourself. There is no peace in the fucking fire! You needed _help_ not a death wish. I don’t hate you. I never could.”

“No, it has to be, Frank! If it wasn’t poetic then it was just fucking sad!”

“Yeah." 

Gerard crumpled in on himself at Frank's confirmation. Tears ran down his cheeks and his breath came in sharp bursts. Frank wondered how he carried around that much sadness without breaking.

“I was so selfish. So cruel to the people around me. You shouldn’t be friends with me Frank. I did this.” He ran his tongue over his fangs. “I did this to myself and I did this to Mikey. If it weren’t for me he’d still have a normal life! He wouldn’t have made someone change him.”

“You weren’t selfish; you were sick.” Frank's hand collided with Gerard's as they both reached up to wipe tears from each other's cheeks. Both dropped their hands.

“Well if I’m sick when do I get better?”

“When was the last time you cut yourself?”

“The night I killed myself.”

“Last time you got blackout drunk?”

“The night I killed myself.”

“Do you have people in your life right now who care about you?”

“I guess.” Frank kicked Gerard’s shoe lightly and scowled. “Fine, yes.”

“I don’t know when you get better Gerard. Hell, I don’t know when _I_ get better. But I think you’re getting there. I don’t think there’s a neon sign at the end of the road that says _You’re Mentally Stable Now._ There’s good days and bad days. That’s why we need people around us. They help us with our bad days and we help them with theirs.”

“Is that why you’re so afraid of people leaving?”

“If I didn’t have Ray and my mom there’s a pretty big chance I wouldn’t be here right now. Anyways, now I got you and Mikey. You’re fighting like hell to get a cure so you can be alive again Gerard. Things are looking pretty good.”

Gerard looked impossibly small next to him. “What if I can’t do it? Be alive again? Get a job? Make myself into something other than a cautionary tale?”

Frank shrugged next to him like it was the easiest thing in the world. “You don’t have to follow everyone else’s standards of what living means. If your heart's beating you’re alive. There is no metric; anyone who says otherwise is trying to sell you something- usually themselves. In case you didn’t notice I’m not exactly a model citizen either. We can be unemployed together and order takeout because we’re too lazy to cook and go to shitty shows.”

“That’s what you want?”

“For now. I want anything that makes me happy; anything that keeps me alive. I’ve been too sad for too long. I’m allowed to be a degenerate burnout for a bit. Eventually, yeah, I want more. But for now,” he took a drag from his cigarette, “this is perfect.”

“And you want me there for all that?”

Frank wanted to be gentle, didn’t want to overwhelm Gerard after such an emotional discussion. But he’d never done things halfway. “More than anything.”

“And you’ll wait for me?”

“We’ve been half of something for so long. I can wait a bit longer to be whole.”

“When this is all over we should go out, like on an actual date.” Gerard's cheeks flushed a light pink as he spoke.

“Gerard Arthur Way are you asking me on a date?”

“Oh, shut up.” He rolled his eyes. He was secretly happy their playful banter was back. Maybe everything would be alright. Maybe _they'd_ be alright.

“I’ll wear my prettiest dress. I’ll do my hair all nice. I can’t wait.” Frank raised his wrist to his forehead in a mock faint as Gerard shoved him.

“Be careful I’ll retract my offer.”

“As if- you’re totally into me. Plus I’m the crazy ex girlfriend type. I’ll throw rocks through your window and write sad poems and shit if you leave me.”

“Promise?”

“On my life.” They grinned at each other. 

_This,_ Gerard thought, _yeah, this I can do._

Weeks of tension snaked out of their bodies leaving them sore and tired. Eventually eyelids got too heavy and speech too quiet. They fell asleep in the hall, leaning on each other.

Outside the rain stopped.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this was a bit shorter but this chapter came from a really honest place and I didn't think including it with other scenes felt right. I had this planned out before I started the first fic in this series so I really hope you enjoyed it <3


	7. all the Angels say "get the fuck away from me"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look, I blame the staples fic for making me ship ray and mikey….. Plus it’s funny to write ray and mikey while my brain yells shut up about frank and gerard! shut up about frank and gerard! shut up about frank and gerard! shut up about frank and gerard! shut up about frank and gerard!
> 
> PS You don't have to read this chapter to understand what's going on, absolutely zero plot points, the most that happens is a kiss. Basically if you're annoyed I'm putting this pairing in here then you can skip this chapter lol

\-----------

Across the forest Ray and Mikey sat on the sofa in the house. 

“Thanks.”

“For what?” Mikey shifted on the couch so he was facing Ray. The light of the Sci-Fi channel on the television bathed them in a blue light.

“Treating me normal, I guess. After Frank found out the first time he threw away my scissors and moved in with me for two weeks. Although in retrospect I think his rent was just late and he didn’t want to face his landlord.”

Mikey snorted. 

“I’m not going to say I get it because I don’t. But I know other people who cut and treating them like a freak doesn’t exactly work. I’m here if you want to talk. And if you don’t-” he nodded to the movie that had been playing for the last few hours.

“You’re a stand up guy Mikeyway.”

“Don’t go spreading that around. I have an image to maintain.” He kept his voice flat but couldn’t help the swell in his chest. Ew, was that nausea? Upon further analysis, no, even worse, it was affection.  _ Uhhhhhhhg.  _

“Right, I’ll keep that to myself. Not sure who I would tell anyways other than Frank or Ella.”

Mikey felt like his heart had seized up. “Girlfriend?”

“What, are you asking if Frank’s my girlfriend?”

“Ew, what, no. Ella?”

Ray’s laugh sounded like chimes in the air. Or maybe Mikey just had a crush. Could go either way.

“Ella is my sister. We talk a lot.”

“Oh.”

“I hope Frank and Gerard are doing well out there.” Ray rubbed his bandaged arm absentmindedly as he spoke.

“I’m sure they are.” 

For quite possibly the first time in his life, Mikey felt compelled to make conversation. “The tattoo is healing well by the way.” He gestured awkwardly to his left hipbone, covered by a Radiohead t shirt (and he would take this to his grave) from the girl’s section of Walmart.

“Oh cool- let’s see!” 

All of a sudden the movie seemed too quiet and the air too cold. There was absolutely no way Mikey could show Ray the low placed tattoo on his hip without finding a way to make things extremely awkward. 

Better play dumb.

“See….?”

“The tattoo.” 

“What tattoo?”

Okay, maybe that was too much.

Ray raised an eyebrow as he turned on the couch to face Mikey. “The one I literally  _ just  _ gave you? That you were talking about?”

“Right.” He continued to sit there, frozen.

“Do you get a lot of stick and poke tattoos from random guys and have a hard time keeping track?” Ray was fighting to keep a smile off his face at this point. It was just too easy to make Mikey freak out. He somehow seemed to keep his cool around everyone else but was a total weirdo around Ray. Ray kind of liked it. 

“No, like a normal amount of guys. Well, no guys, actually. If we’re talking about tattoos I guess.”

“What were  _ you  _ talking about?”

“Nothing weird.”

“Right.”

“Do you want a beer? I’m going to the kitchen.”

Mikey had leapt off the couch and was half way into the other room before he heard Ray’s shouted answer of  _ yes please! _

While he was in the kitchen his phone buzzed with multiple messages from Gerard.  _ Fuck.  _ Now he had to worry about his brother and friend’s safety  _ and  _ embarrassing himself in front of Ray. Life was totally not fair.

Back in the living room he explained the situation with the energy vampire, and Frank and Gerard staying in the trailer for the rest of the night to Ray, grateful to have a change of topic. After spending ten minutes talking Ray out of going into the forest to check on them he was slightly less grateful.

“Let’s just drink our beers in peace and stop coming up with crazy plans, okay?”

“Whatever. Anyways, can I see the tattoo now? I wanna know how the line work held up?”

God, why did Ray actually have to listen to and care about the things he said? If he was like other guys Mikey was with he totally would’ve glossed over the initial tattoo comment and not cared at all. _ Uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhg.  _

“Right. Sure.” He downed the rest of his beer and noticed Ray’s was already gone. In his defense it had been a rough night. 

The room was oddly still and his hands felt clumsy as he rolled up his t shirt and unbuttoned his jeans to tug down the corner of them and reveal his hip.

A small pumpkin with mostly even lines stood starkly against his pale skin.

“Looks great man. Happy it’s healing well.” Mikey was almost happy that’s where this had led. Somewhere totally respectable.

And then.

A warm hand ghosted over the edges of his hip and settled firmly with fingers in the back and thumb lightly trailing over the pumpkin at the front.

_ Fuck. This was all Billy Corgan’s fault. Fuck Billy Corgan. Fuck the Smashing Pumpkins. _

“Does it hurt?”

“Nope.” Mikey’s voice was a lot further from even than he would’ve liked it to be.

“Good. It took well to your skin then. Anytime you want another one just let me know, yeah?”

“‘Course.” 

Ray’s hand was still on Mikey’s hip.

“Cool.” Ray let his hand drop.

Despite not producing any body heat of his own and being incredibly used to it, Mikey felt cold.

Half way through the next movie Mikey figured he had a pretty solid plan. Frank wasn’t here to be annoying and Gerad wasn’t here to stare lovingly at Frank being annoying so it was the perfect time to enact said plan. There was no way in Hell Ray was going to make any sort of move. One, he might be straight and not at all interested in Mikey. Two, he was far too gentlemanly to pin Mikey against a wall and make out with him like Mikey wanted. 

Phase one of the plan was to ask some probing questions until he figured out if Ray might be into guys or not. Phase two was to….. Well phase two could be sorted later.

Ray returned from the kitchen with more beer for them as the commercial break trailed on. Mikey briefly wondered if collectively, as a group, the four of them drank too much. He decided the answer was yes but that that was completely fair because they were under a lot of stress with the whole vampire cure thing. 

“So, Ray….”

Ray smiled. “So, Mikey.”

Ray had sat back down on the middle cushion instead of the far left. This left Mikey (on the far right) with his leg against his. 

Huh.

“Ella is your sister?”

“Yep.”

“So you don’t have a girlfriend, like at all?”

“Thanks for rubbing it in, but, no. No girlfriend.”

Ray rolled his eyes and passed Mikey an open drink. 

“Boyfriend?”

“Nope.”

“Ever?”

“Do I seem that bad? Obviously I’ve had a girlfriend before.”

“So just girlfriends?”

“What is with you?”

Mikey turned and their faces were closer together than he’d thought. 

_ Fuck, he still hadn’t thought of a phase two. _

“Your leg is warm.” Best plan of action? Dodge the question. He’d learned from the best, after all. Well, fine, he’d learned from Gerard but that fucker was sneaky so he figured it must work.

“Sorry I can-” Ray leaned away slightly but Mikey caught him with a hand on his thigh.  _ Upper thigh.  _ Scandalous.

“No- stay. It’s nice.”

They watched as someone had their head sawed off in the horror movie. He licked his lips a totally normal amount as blood spurted everywhere.

“Hungry?” Ray was looking at him with concern.

“Nah, I’m good.” Truth be told he  _ was  _ a bit hungry but nothing detrimental. He always got weirdly horny when he needed to feed and the combination of that while sitting next to Ray and drinking was giving his head this pleasant buzzing feeling.

“Fine then, you?”

“Me, what?” He raised an eyebrow.

“You were grilling me on my past relationships. Tell me about your last one.”

Oh. This was not part of the plan. He kind of wished Frank and Gerard were here to cause a scene and distract everyone right now.  _ The one time he actually needed the drama queens. _

“Uh, he was not great, I guess.” He dropped his hand from Ray’s leg. “Kind of an asshole actually. But whatever.”

“You don’t deserve that- I’m sorry.” Ray’s hand curled around his shoulder and it took the very minimal self control Mikey had not to curl into his chest.  _ His warm chest. His strong chest. _ God, he was so fucked. 

“It’s fine- I’m used to it. Everyone I date is an ass.” He said comfortingly. It was not comforting.

Ray’s brows drew together. “You need to find someone to treat you right Mikey. You’re a great guy. You’re so smart and insanely fucking creative and, although I’ve been sworn to secrecy here, you’re really kind as well.”

An unnatural shade of pink coloured Mikey’s face. “Well you’re the only one who thinks that.”

“No way! Plus you’re-” Ray swallowed and cut himself off.

They were both suddenly aware of the way Mikey was leaning into Ray.

“I’m what?”

“Nothing.” Ray’s face flushed a light golden.

“No way! You totally have to say!”

“Fine!  _ I was saying  _ you’re hot anyways so you have loads of dating options.”

“You think I’m hot?” Oh yeah, phase two was totally coming together now: bully Ray into admitting he wanted to bang Mikey. There were literally no flaws in this plan.

“I mean- well objectively- in a totally not gay way-”

“What’s wrong with the gay way?”

Mikey looked up at him from his spot in the crook of Ray’s elbow. His lips looked nice from this angle.

“ _ Nothing!  _ I’m just - I don’t- I’m not-” 

_ Fuck.  _ One possible flaw in this plan.

“I mean, like, I’ve done stuff but not, like,  _ stuff,-”  _ Ray’s rambly nature was coming in rather handy now. Plan saved.

“ _ Stuff?”  _

He felt Ray’s warm breath on his cheek and the way his arm shifted slightly around Mikey’s shoulders. His hand reached down further and his fingertips brushed across Mikey’s chest.  _ Interesting.  _

“Well, um, you know.” 

“I don’t know.” Maybe this is why, Mikey reasoned, people said he was mean.

“Everyone’s done  _ some stuff  _ with other guys. That’s totally normal.”

“I agree.”

“Great.”

“So, what stuff?”

“You really can’t let anything go, can you?”

“Nope.”

“You’re almost as annoying as Frank.”

“Hey!” He moved before he fully processed his actions and the following consequences of his actions (a Way brothers’ trait). He tilted his head back and nipped lightly at the skin of Ray’s neck in what he initially considered to be a playful, sexy sort of way but looking back at it might have been slightly creepy given the whole  _ vampire  _ thing. Whoops.

Ray flushed and Mikey froze.  _ Okay, maybe a bit creepy then.  _

What might have been the world’s most uncomfortable silence followed until Ray blissfully spoke-

“Blowjobs. That’s the thing I was talking about.”

Now Mikey was definitely looking at Ray’s lips.

Then Mikey said, “that doesn’t sound very  _ not gay  _ to me.” Because he liked to start shit and he enjoyed the way Ray’s already tense arm felt around him.

“It’s not that I’m  _ not gay,  _ I’m just also  _ not  _ not gay, you know?”

“No.”

“Just, god you make this difficult,” Ray removed his arm from around Mikey to tuck his hair behind his ears. It promptly sprung back out. “If I’m attracted to someone then I’m attracted to them, okay?”

“I know exactly what you mean.” In an uncharacteristic display of confidence Mikey decided to actually show some initiative. He rested his left hand on the side of Ray’s face and his right moved somewhere near his thigh (again, very scandalous). “Do you want to make out?”

Ray’s head was spinning. Did he want to  _ what? _

_ He had to think of something more eloquent than that, _ he decided. “Do I want to  _ what _ ?” Fuck, it was harder to think of professional, straight forward sentences when a hot guy was asking to make out with him than he had initially thought. 

Mikey’s hands dropped and an expression of sadness passed over his features before being replaced with a practiced detachment. “Makeout. I guess. I’m bored, so.” He shrugged nonchalantly like this didn’t matter a fucking lot to him. He figured the best plan of action, if Ray didn’t  _ like  _ him, was to act like he just considered Ray some random lay- which he wasn’t. He was so much more. He was sunshine and dandelions. He was the smell when it rained. He was a favourite sweater. He was  _ warm. _

It stung, Ray decided, to be treated the same as television or a crossword puzzle. Something to do when no other activity seemed overly appealing. Mikey clearly didn’t care about him.

“Wow, that’s what it took then? Four weeks and you’re finally bored enough to consider me. Aren’t I  _ fucking  _ lucky.” He stood up abruptly, knocking Mikey back slightly as he did so, and strode to the kitchen.

Well, that hadn’t turned out exactly as he’d planned. Mikey bit his lip.  _ Fuck. _

He followed to the kitchen. At least there were drinks in there. And blood. And Ray. 

He definitely needed all three of those things. Or two. Or one. Maybe it was three. He really wasn’t sure yet.

Ray’s face was unreadable as he shoved a glass of water to the vampire.

“Since you seem to be saying whatever, I thought you might need a sober up.”

Mikey relished the way their hands touched as the glass was passed over. He sipped it.

“I’m not  _ drunk.  _ Just tipsy.”

“And bored too, apparently.” The hurt shone through on Ray’s face.

_ Yeah, he’d really fucked this one up.  _

Mikey scooched back onto the countertop, letting his legs dangle off as Ray turned to face him.

“I’m sorry. I meant- well I didn’t mean-  _ shit-  _ look, I-”

“I get it.” Ray stepped closer to him. “ _ You’re bored.” _

“No! I just- I was worried you would think I was lame or something. I think you’re fucking golden Ray. You radiate light and kindness despite all this shit that’s been thrown your way. And yeah, I think you’re hot, sue me! I chickened out last minute and acted like I didn’t care, but I do. I want you to kiss me but you’re so far out of my league I figured-” he cut himself off with a shrug. This was the most Mikey had spoken about his feelings. Ever. He thought he might be drowning. Or dying. Or something equally dramatic.

A warm hand settled on his thigh as Ray leaned in, between Mikey’s legs. ( _ Oh, scandalous).  _ “Don’t ever think for a second, that you’re not worthy of the entire world, okay?”

“Um.” He cleared his throat.

“Okay?”

“Yeah, okay.”

A smile cracked over Ray’s face and Mikey couldn’t help but return it.

“Still want me to?”

“Want you to-” The vampire was cut off by a sudden movement. Ray leaned in further, his hands settling on Mikey’s waist and pulling him forwards on the counter, their fronts now flush. “Oh-o-” 

Heat he hadn’t felt in a while settled in his lower stomach. “Yeah.”

He expected it to be like some 90s alt rock song. Like the sky was violet. Or English summer rain. Or a cannonball. But it wasn’t. Instead it was just  _ Ray.  _ And that was so much better.

Soft lips met his. His mind fuzzed out as a hand reached up into his hair. A short tug followed by an embarrassing moan from him as Ray nipped at his bottom lip. 

Ray knew it was wrong. Because making out with your best friend’s sort of ex boyfriend’s brother certainly couldn’t have been right. But part of him was tired of Frank getting everything. All their problems had to be about Frank. Had to be about his shitty decision making. About his quarter life crisis. About his vampire crush. 

But this? This right here in the kitchen? That was his. The chill of Mikey’s skin? His. The ragged way Mikey’s breath hitched as Ray’s hand moved downward? His. The feel of Mikey’s teeth skimming his neck as he unbuttoned Mikey’s jeans? His.

Mikey leaned back, his lips kiss swollen and hair sticking up in odd spots. “Do you think this is really going to work?”

Ray paused in his movements, his chest heaving and eyes wide. “What’s  _ this?” _

Mikey swallowed. “Everything. You. Me. Frank. Gerard. The cure.”

“I don’t know.”

“Me either.” He leaned back into the warmth of Ray.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh look! Two people communicating and solving their problems! Shocking!
> 
> Honestly this chapter was just a fun filler. Last chapter was really heavy and also made me sad so I wanted to write this before moving on! 
> 
> Next update should be tomorrow!
> 
> PS I think Frank's blonde hair looks fine and you're all mean


	8. This chapter is about being attacked by monsters

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heavy violence warning!

Were Ray and Mikey subtle? No. But were Frank and Gerard so wrapped up in whatever Shakespearean tragedy they’d placed themselves into to notice anything going on? Yes.

The following morning Gerard and Frank had made it safely back to the house. The next few days had been filled with translation updates from Lynz and Jamia (almost finished-they would fax it over when it was done), increasingly more paranoid forest expeditions for more ingredients (only one left now), and insufferably annoying actions from two conglomerates in the house.

Ray and Mikey would sneak off to go makeout with almost transparent excuses ranging from  _ I need help taking out my contact lenses _ to  _ come look at the weird shaped mold I found in my room.  _ The last excuse hadn’t gone as planned as Mikey, Frank and Gerard were all genuinely interested in seeing the weird mold in Ray’s room. Ray decided his friends were fucking weird but he liked them anyways. Despite this, Frank and Gerard were none the wiser. Why? They were occasionally idiots. 

They were wrapped up in lingering touches on cigarettes and eye contact that could’ve burned up the sun. There was a distinct sense of  _ almost, almost, almost  _ in everything they did. 

The four of them had been lingering in an area adjacent to hope for so long now it was starting to feel like home. But they could see headlights bouncing off the road sign.  _ Turn here for happiness! (Or as close as you’re going to get. Let’s be honest here, there will still be ups and downs but I really think you’ll like it in the sun.)  _ It was a very long road sign. 

The point of the matter was they were almost there. Gerard and Mikey would be human again. Ray finally felt like there was a point in life. Frank wanted to be alive for the first time since he was a kid.

They just had to live through this a little bit longer.

And did it feel a little childish, a little stupid, to spend the last few hours before their final venture into the woods for the last herb screaming L7 lyrics and dying their hair? Sure. But that wasn’t the point. In the last few months seismic shifts had rippled through all of them. It didn’t feel right going back home to the city looking the same as when they’d left. They wanted to yell FUCK YOU to the streets and neon signs. They were coming back and they weren’t getting crushed by the same wheels as before. They wouldn’t let it happen to each other. 

They knew what they were in for. When they returned with the final herb, Jamia and Lynz would be finished with the translation and fax it over. The energy vampires would be attracted by the energy released by the cure. They would have to leave the house as soon as possible. 

It was tonight. 

It was all over tonight.

Duffel bags sat at the door in a neat stack. 

Frank brought a cigarette up to his lips as he sat on the front porch. The house looked lonely without all their things strewn around. He remembered when he first got here. How alone he felt, how Gerard scared him, how he wished the earth would swallow him up. 

His thoughts were interrupted by the door creaking open. He looked back to see Ray. Through the parallel window he saw Gerard following Mikey around and insisting he had to let him cut his hair because  _ he was older and that was only fair. _

Ray sat down next to him.

“Are you ready for this?”

“I mean we’ve been over the plan a hundred times. We’re all packed.”

“That’s not what I meant,” Ray shoved him gently with his shoulder, “are you ready to go back to the city? Back to reality?”

“Oh.” Frank breathed out and let smoke mingle in with the mist around them. He looked back at the house and heard Gerard and Mikey’s laughter and saw the way Ray’s eyes crinkled up as he grinned. “Yeah, I’m ready. You?”

“Yeah. You know, I think we’re actually going to make it out of this okay.”

Frank knew he wasn’t talking about the cure or vampires anymore.

“What are you going to do when we get back?”

“Sleep.” Ray yawned dramatically to prove his point.

“Come on! What are you actually going to do?”

“I was looking through the paper yesterday. A music centre is looking for a guitar teacher. I don’t know. I might apply.” 

Frank grinned at that. Ray was a fucking awsome guitar player. “You’re really looking at jobs? You’d be good at it though! It just feels weird to, I don’t know, go back to normal.”

“I know what you mean. It’s going to take a while to remember we don’t have to keep the curtains closed during the day and that there  _ aren’t  _ monsters outside waiting to kill us.” They both laughed. It wasn’t very funny- it was trauma. They, of course, thought that made it funnier.

“So,” Ray continued, “what job are you going to get? Or are you just going to continue to be a degenerate?”

“Oh, I plan on figuring out what music centre you’re talking about and immediately applying for a job there too. I miss throwing crumpled up receipts into your hair during work. Remember that time I got five to stick before you even noticed?” Ray kicked his foot. “Good times.”

“The record store seems like it was ages ago. I feel like a different person now.”

“Me too.”

“Is that why Gerard’s insisting we have this symbolic hair dye party?”

Frank laughed. “I think so. I like the idea anyways.” 

Ray grinned. “Yeah, it’s pretty cool.”

“Then come in here and HELP me!” Both men jumped as Mikey appeared silently behind them. Gerard lingered in the door way with an evil grin on his face. Mikey’s hair looked atrocious.

“Fine, fine.” Frank tugged on Ray’s hand and the four of them trooped back inside.

Cold hands settled on Frank's shoulders as he sat in a chair and glanced at Ray across the room who was currently trying to even out Mikey’s cut.

“Welcome to the salon. We only take payment in cocaine or comic books. What can I do for you today?”

Frank laughed as he spoke. “What the hell sort of accent is that supposed to be?”

“Hey, this is totally my normal voice. Shut up.” Gerard kept his hands on Frank’s shoulders and stuck out his tongue.

“No it’s not! You were trying to do an accent!”

“Fine, okay, that was my New York accent. I was trying to be fancy.” He grumbled in defeat.

“New York? We’re from Jersey, that’s like treason. Also New York isn’t fancy.”

“You want your hair done or not?”

Frank eyed Mikey’s lopsided cut across the room.

“Uhhhhhh.”

Gerard made sure Ray and Mikey were wrapped up in whatever it was they were doing,  _ probably shit talking his very good haircut,  _ and leaned down to Frank in the kitchen chair in front of him. His lips grazed his ear as he spoke. “Don’t you want to look  _ nice  _ for our first date Frankie?”

“You fucker. You’re going to do this all the time, aren’t you?”

“What? Use the fact you’re totally into me to get stuff? Obviously Frank- keep up.” With one last glance to make sure  _ other parties  _ were sufficiently distracted he kissed Frank’s cheek.

“Fine, yeah, whatever. Do my hair.” 

Gerard smiled triumphantly. Oh yeah, he was going to do this  _ all the time.  _

Mikey’s jaw was tense as he did his very best to make exactly zero noises as Ray ran his fingers through his hair.

Ray spritzed his hair (and half his face) with the spray bottle again and snipped a few more pieces. 

“Totally fixed.”

Ray had evened up the sides, leaving them fairly short and left some length on top, which he had pushed out of Mikey’s face and into a sort of faux hawk situation. 

“Well I can’t  _ see it so- _ ”

Ray grabbed his hand and led him from the kitchen into the sitting room to look in the mirror there.

Mikey stood in front of Ray as he looked in the mirror. He tugged down a few locks in front of his face as Ray’s hand came up to stop him. “I like seeing your face.”

“Oh.” He pushed the pieces back up. “It’s nice.”

“Yeah?” Ray’s eyes were doing the thing where they got all crinkly because he was smiling too big.

Mikey smiled too. “Yeah.”

Then his smile got a bit more wicked. “Your turn!”

Ray took a step back.

“You’re not coming near me with scissors.”

“Well let me dye it then. Pleeeeeease?” 

“Nope. There is literally nothing you can do to-”

Mikey turned from the mirror to face Ray and wrap his arms around his waist. 

“I’ll blow you later.” Mikey was not known for his subtlety. 

Ray, who was now a lovely shade of pink, coughed.

“You can dye my hair  _ anytime  _ you want to.”

Mikey smiled and practically skipped back to the kitchen.

He let Frank (very evil and unacceptable) help Ray (very nice and totally sexy) put a few strips of bleach in his already sandy hair after he’d piled a dark brown dye onto Ray’s. 

Gerard was slick with black dye, trying to fix the teal roots incident, and had a few inches snipped off, leaving it at jaw length.

Frank’s hair was pushed to one side and fell just below his ear lobe. The sides and back were shaved close to his head and caked with bleach. It itched.

After several snips, sprays, dyes and dries Frank had to admit they looked pretty cool. 

Their coolness was promptly cut off by Ray acting like a mom.

“ _ One  _ picture! Just one!”

“Seriously? This isn’t Kindergarten graduation.” Frank rolled his eyes.

“Obviously Frank. Otherwise you wouldn’t be here; remember how you got held back a year?” 

“Shut it!” Frank threw a glove at Ray’s face. It missed.

“To graduate Kindergarten you actually have to do something. Read, write, learn to share…. We got dressed up to pick flowers in the woods.”

“You’re just saying that Mikey because the energy vampires attack Frank and I  _ way more  _ than you and Ray. This is, like, a totally cool quest so stop making it seem lame.” Gerard stuck out his tongue at his brother to illustrate his very mature and sound argument. 

Ray pressed a button on the tripod and walked over to the group. “Just smile for  _ one  _ photo and then we can leave.”

_ Click. _

A few seconds after the photo was taken something more serious filled the room. It was time.

Ray decided to check the photo later. He was sure it was fine.

Coats were zipped and boots laced. Frank pulled on his fingerless gloves that were totally cool despite what Mikey said about them. He considered texting his mom but figured nothing that bad would happen. They’d dealt with the energy vamps before, they could do it again.

“Ready?” Gerard looked at all of them. 

“Ready.” Three voices answered back.

The door swung shut behind them.

A photo blinked on the digital camera screen.

Both Gerard’s hands were a blur and his mouth open (fangs clearly visible) as he illustrated some finer point of his argument to Frank, who was rolling a joint on the table and smiling up at him. Mikey had jammed sunglasses on his face last minute but wore something akin to a grin; although, it was very clear he was in the midst of groping Ray’s ass. And Ray, whose face was scrunched up in a laugh, was very clearly into it but pretending he wasn’t. 

Ray was right- the photo was perfect.

\-----

What it was, Frank decided, that was throwing him off was how  _ normal  _ it was. The last ingredient didn’t glow, it wasn’t neon speckled or hot to the touch. It was a rose. A perfectly normal rose. They very well could’ve driven into town and  _ bought  _ a rose if they’d felt so inclined. However, it was decided it was best to harvest all plants from the forest itself. No one wanted to risk the cure not working because they decided to cut corners.

It didn’t make it any less strange as Gerard tucked the freshly cut roses into his backpack along with the other herbs. Their increasing paranoia had led them to pack up their other foraged goods, which Gerard shoved into his bag none too neatly, as they were afraid the energy vampires might do something to the house in their absence. Although the vampires had never been inside the house before, and the four of them doubted they would be able to sneak in, they decided to play it safe.

\-----

They hadn’t done anything yet- the energy vampires. But they were there, of course. In the house. Why wouldn’t they be? Who wouldn’t want a lick? A sniff? A taste of all that delicious fear! Their shadowy hands clattering over picture frames and tongues dragging across yellowing wallpaper. They bit into pillows and slid under floorboards. One took a nap in Frank’s bed- it smelled delightfully fearful in there!

They couldn’t speak well. A few garbled noises here and there, the occasional word, but they were smart. They were conglomerates of energy shoved into a vaguely human shape. They knew what was coming. The tense energy around the house had increased ten fold. They saw bags lined up at the door and watched with hungry eyes as the beings inside flinched at any noise before heading off into the woods.

They had stalked their prey for weeks. Now it was time for the ambush.

\------

The four of them walked back to the house, the golden light inside a beacon back home. They had everything they needed; they had the cure. They were 200 meters away when it started.

When the shadows got sticky. When mist started to clot their throats like cobwebs. When the movement in the corner of their eye started to laugh.

They all continued to walk with a practiced stiffness as they were stalked through the trees. The vampires fed on fear. They run? They lose. They just had to make it to the house. They just had to make it to the house in  _ a calm, reasonable, slow  _ mannar.

They closed ranks, walking shoulder to shoulder. Gerard took Frank’s hand.

Ray whispered as quietly as broken glass: “Frank, your Grandma’s books, I read something in them about salt stopping creatures from the underworld. I didn’t put much stock in it but…” He trailed off as an energy vampire hissed above them.

“We just need to make it a bit farther. Then we can grab the salt from the kitchen. We’ll have a head start while they try and get into the house.” Gerard and Mikey nodded in agreement to their plan; their eyes plastered straight ahead.

They continued their walk, torturous and slow. 

Frank thought he felt something wet drip onto his forehead but didn’t dare look up. He let his eyes slide to the side- a much bigger mistake.

Because there, in the rain soaked underbrush, was Sweet Pea. She barked and wagged her tail.

Deep down Frank knew. He knew it wasn’t her but there was something tender that stopped his logic from bubbling up. Really, it was always something tender that marked the end.

“Frank,” Gerard’s grip on his hand tightened. “Frankie, you know it’s not her, don’t-”

Frank wrenched his hand out of Gerards and walked over to her. She panted and looked up at him. Her eyes were black. Frank didn’t remember her teeth being that long either. He reached towards her.  _ Just one touch.  _

It felt like shivs of iron had been driven through his arm and he cried out. Soft fur turned to sticky black syrup as the marriage of Sweet Pea faded away. The energy vampire bit down harder on his arm and he thought he might pass out.

He felt cold arms close around his waist and pull him from the monster’s grip. 

The four of them started running. 

None of them held any ill will towards Frank breaking up their plan. If it wasn’t him it would’ve been one of them lured in with something they loved. Because, in the end, they always knew they’d crack. They were too broken to pretend otherwise and the vamps knew it. It was like playing poker when everyone else knew your cards and the dealer had a gun. 

The shadows followed them fast and slick but never caught up as the four of them skittered into the house and bolted the door; which, unbeknownst to their prey, was very much by design.

Frank held his arm up to his chest as blood continued to pour out and Mikey made for the kitchen. 

The weak moonlight filtered in through the foyer window casting spidery shapes on Gerard’s face as he leaned closer to Frank.

“Are you okay?”

“Not really.” He barely forced a laugh out. “You?”

“Fuck, Frankie-” 

“Guys.” Mikey appeared back in the foyer with a box of salt and Ray.

“What?” Gerard saw something deep in Mikey’s eyes that only a brother could. It was fear- the real type- the type little kids had when they saw monsters under their beds. The type that their brothers staved off with hand drawn comic books and fantastical stories. But they weren’t kids anymore. This couldn’t be fixed with crayons and nightlights.

“If they can make themselves look like Sweet Pea then they could look like us. They could be any one of us.”

Frank was about to tell him he was over reacting, that there was no way they could do that- people were more complicated than animals. Then he saw Ray on the stairs. Ray in the foyer saw him as well.

“When we got back I went upstairs to check the windows. I never went to the kitchen.” Ray’s voice was breathy as he slowly made his way down the stairs, eyes locked on the other Ray. 

Mikey’s head snapped to the Ray beside him who hadn’t said anything the entire time they were in the kitchen. He wasn’t holding any salt either.

“Run.” Not Ray smiled a mouth full of fangs. 

Mikey threw a sachet of salt to Gerard and passed the box to Real Ray on the stairs as he turned to go back to the kitchen for more. 

And then it started. 

The whole house seemed to leech energy vampires. They crawled out from behind sconces and rolled out from under couches. Nails reached out from under floorboards, followed by hands and arms. They crept along the ceiling like spiders and let rancid black liquid splash from their jaws onto the floor.

Not Ray seeped back into its shadowy form and grabbed Mikey by the neck. It slammed his head into the bannister with a loud  _ crack.  _ Blood splattered against the wall.

Gerard immediately moved towards them but something stopped him.

Slimy black hands had broken through the wall and were gripping his jacket, leaving him pinned in place. Another hand broke through the drywall and covered his mouth. Something sticky and rotten started to seep in between his lips as he screamed. 

Ray threw a handful of salt over the hands which made a sizzling sound. It smelled like burnt meat. They loosened enough for Gerard to get away and run towards Mikey who was currently stumbling to the kitchen.

Ray fell back into the living room as a horrible scratching sounded from the fireplace.

Curiosity was an innate human trait. Without it we wouldn’t have made it to the moon, we wouldn’t have electric guitars, we wouldn’t have pastel paintings in the Louvre. However, a lot more of us would be alive.

Ray walked towards the fireplace as the scratching continued. He flicked the switch of the lamp next to him and immediately regretted it.

Crawling down the fireplace, all broken boned and slack jawed, was a bloody red humanoid form.  _ Like what Frank had described from his nightmares when he’d first moved in, _ Ray thought. And then,  _ oh fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck _ . Those hadn’t been nightmares. This was just another type of energy vampire. They had been stalking Frank for a long time now.

Ray threw a handful of salt on it and he turned and ran. It screeched and fell, writhing on the floor for a moment with its limbs convulsing. Slowly its arms cracked themselves in the right direction and it started to gallop behind Ray on all fours. 

Frank figured, as an energy vampire dragged him upstairs by his ankles, his head  _ thudding  _ on each stair, if there was one thing he could have faith in it was his Grandmother. With her carved crosses and blood tins. Her roses and photo albums. His Grandmother had always stored a few shoe boxes in his closet. He looked at them when he’d first gotten to the house and remembered thinking something about it being dry goods storage. The vamp dragged him into the bedroom, presumably to tear his guts out. He knew he only had one shot at this. The creature dropped his ankles to pounce on him as Frank brought his heel down hard on the monster’s head. I slid off him for a moment and he ripped open his closet door and the boxes.

They were all filled with salt.

The creature lunged at him again and he moved to the side, raising his hand to the back of its head. He slammed its face down into the box of salt as it screamed.

Frank’s whole body shook with the force it took to keep it there. He dug his knee into its back as it trashed around wildly. 

It eventually slowed and then stopped as Frank rolled off of it.

His head bashed against the closet door as he flinched when the creature twitched. He had no idea how to kill these things.

He picked up his old baseball bat from his closet.

He had no idea but, well, he could try. 

Black liquid splattered his face as he brought down the bat once, twice, three times, too many to count, on the unmoving body on his floor.

He thought he would feel safe when it was dead. 

He vomited next to it.

“ _ Frankie.”  _ This one wasn’t even trying, really. It wore Gerard’s face and rumpled clothes but the eyes were all wrong and it was laughing. High pitched and almost shrieking, it loudly laughed his name again. “Frankie!” 

“Not a-fucking-gain.”

It hit Frank then, how much they  _ enjoyed it.  _ They weren’t doing this simply because they had to feed. They were doing this for sport.

He raised his bat as Not Gerard got closer. His legs bumped against the side of his bed. Something sharp and cold closed around his ankles and pulled him down. 

He dropped the bat as his ankles and wrists were held to the floor by faceless vamps that crawled out from underneath his bed. One of them looked like the slack jawed monster from his nightmares so many weeks ago now. He didn’t have the time or the will to process what that meant.

Not Gerard crawled over top of him. A long nail traced down Frank’s chest. “Pretty.” The word sounded gargled and cracked. It continued across his chest. Frank didn’t dare breath.

“Pretty.” It dugs its nail into his arm moving it slowly. Frank cried out. He couldn’t tell how much time had passed as his flesh was shredded into delicate ribbons. 

Was this what it felt like to die? He always thought it would be different- quieter. That he wouldn’t hear his flesh ripping. He was scared, of course he was scared, but he wasn’t sure what else he felt. He thought he’d be immortal because only the good die young and lately forever was feeling awfully close. He thought he’d have a revelation in roses and russet. In spindles and cyanide. In church pews and last page news. But there wasn’t. No big epiphany, No poetics. Just pain. And fear. And defeat.

As he trashed around on the floor he caught sight of what exactly the creature was doing. It was tracing his tattoos with its nail. Ripping the flesh around the lines of ink.

_ Oh, fuck no.  _ He spent money on that shit! And he  _ liked  _ his tattoos. Some crazy fucking vampire with Gerard’s face was  _ not  _ going to fuck them up.

His eyes flew around the room wildly. White crystals reflected back in his eyes as he saw the spilled salt on the floor.

He had exactly one plan and it was going to suck. A lot.

He managed to roll himself in the direction of the salt, wood splinters digging into his back as he was jammed down further into the floor. With the last of his strength he ripped his right arm from one of the vamps and pressed it onto the floor behind him.

The salt encrusted his wounds and he wanted to cry. He probably already was crying, now that he thought about it. He shoved his arm against the pile of salt pushing it into his cuts.

The vampire recoiled as it tried to grab his free arm and came into contact with the salt. 

He couldn’t believe it was fucking working. Didn’t make it any less painful though.

With one hand free he had enough time to scrape up a handful of salt and jammed it into Not Gerard’s face. He flailed backwards, knocking the other vamps off Frank as well. Frank took his bat, sticky with the insides of the first vamp, and rolled it in the salt which clung to the black goo.

“Showtime motherfuckers.” It felt particularly good to bash their heads in.

Frank’s shirt hung off him in shreds. He felt woozy as he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror. He didn’t realize it had gotten that far; he must’ve blacked out part way through the vampire’s ministrations. Every tattoo on his arm and chest had been torn at. The lines of ink all replaced with jagged red cuts. His body wretched again but nothing came up.

He supposed, after the day he’d had, he should just be thankful he wasn’t vomiting up blood.

The silence of the house raced down Frank’s spine like a hit of something powdered. He held the baseball bat firmly as he descended down the stairs. Each  _ creek  _ felt like a nail in his coffin and he waited, with trembling, bloody arms, after each one. But nothing flew out of the walls or grabbed his ankles from below. 

He briefly wondered what the rattling noise was until it hit him that it was his own breathing. 

Relief hit him like a sucker punch as he saw Ray, Gerard and Mikey in the living room.

The bag of herbs was still clutched in Gerard’s arms- albeit the bag was now rather bloody.

He moved towards them and they moved back.  _ Right.  _

With uneven hands Ray poured salt in his palm. 

Nothing happened. 

The breath was knocked out of him as Ray hugged him. Gerard joined in and Mikey gave him a pat on the back and then rolled his eyes and joined in.

“You look like shit.” Ray squeezed him tighter as he spoke.

“You too dude, you too.”

They were all alive. Well, technically two of them were dead but they were going to fix that soon. 

Ray finally let him go and Mikey immediately sprayed him in the face with the spray bottle.

Salt water ran into his eyes. “What the fuck man!”

“Just checking.”

Mikey’s entire face was slick with blood from the bashed up flesh on the left side of his face. When he spoke earlier Frank could’ve sworn he was missing a few back teeth. Gerard had hand shaped bruises complete with bloody marks where nails had been dug in across his entire body. Frank looked at his lips; they were split in several places. Half of Ray’s face was swollen up and he limped badly when he walked.

Frank took a moment to be annoyed about the blood matting up all their freshly dyed hair. He decided he was thankful Ray took a photo of them earlier. 

“We should salt a ring around the house and cars. So we can bandage ourselves up and get out of here.” Ray ignored their antics and peered nervously outside.

“I think they’re gone for now. I don’t know how long it will be until they get back.” Gerard glanced at the clock splattered with someone’s blood.

“I think it’s mine.” Frank said absentmindedly, observing the red splatters.

“You can’t  _ tell  _ what your blood looks like.” Ray tried to roll his eyes but one was mostly swollen shut. He wiped at a cut on his forehead.

“Can too! I’ve seen my blood loads of times! That’s totally it!”

Gerard stepped closer to the clock and breathed in deeply. “Yeah, it’s definitely Frank’s.”

“I’m disgusted by both of you.” Mikey’s lip curled up as he spoke. Frank couldn’t tell if he was trying not to laugh or trying not to vomit. Maybe both.

“You love us.” Frank wrapped his arms around Mikey. “You so, totally, completely, love us.”

“Oh, shut up!” Mikey pushed him off but a ghost of a smile lingered on his face.

It quickly faded when he remembered they had to go outside again.

\----

It was with shaking hands they poured a perimeter of salt around the house. Their eyes were wild and they flinched as a breeze blew through the trees. Frank, zipped up in Ray’s coat, felt like crying when he realized they didn’t have enough salt to widen the circle to include Sweet Pea’s grave.

He was done. He was tired. He was  _ goddamn fucking exhausted.  _

It was fun at first- a real adventure. The type he’d always dreamed about as a kid. Vampires and quests and blood. Something to break through the monotony of his life. Something that made him feel special, feel wanted, feel brave. 

But it had been months since he’d slept properly and his eyes always stung in the morning. He was the bone deep weary of someone who had been told to  _ live through this  _ but never got an end date.

It wasn’t fun anymore.

He just wanted to sit in his shitty apartment in the city with Ray, Mikey and Gerard and watch shitty movies and drink shitty beer and fucking  _ laugh.  _ He wanted to stop flinching when a branch hit his window. He wanted trees to be trees and not twisted limbs reaching for his neck. He wanted to hold Gerard’s hand.

Instead, he was being torn at by impossibly cold wind as his body ached in ways he never imagined a living man’s could while he made an uneven salt line because his arm was too fucked up to hold the container right.

Frank sighed as he connected his line to Ray’s. The circle was formed.

He looked up and saw the same haunted look in his friends’ eyes.

\----

_ Brrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr _

_ Eeeeeeeekkkk _

_ Rhrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr _

_ Wzzzzzzzzzzzz _

The yellow tinted plastic of the fax machine serenaded the empty house with its groans and shrieks as ink met paper at a painstakingly slow pace.

Lynz and Jamia had finished translating the journal properly and were faxing over a copy. 

What initially seemed to be a lengthy directional manual had been reduced to a single, concise, page. Underneath the neatly typed, numbered, steps was a scrawled note. The edges were smeared like it had been written in a rush and shoved into the fax machine before the ink had dried. It read:

_ I don’t think you should do this. You’re going to get hurt. You’re  **all** going to get hurt. _

There were exactly two types of people you should never warn in life: the runaway and the martyr. Because a warning, you see, was an out. It was a do over. Or a destiny. Those are very much the same thing, contrary to popular belief. 

It was incredibly unfortunate then, that Gerard was the first to walk through the door. 

The first to see the single sheet of paper, balancing on the printer tray like a butterfly stuck on flypaper, the first to skim the page with its death wish of a warning, the first to move just a step to the side to block the others from seeing it, and the only one to fold up the sheet, neat and square, and slide it into his back pocket.

It hurt a bit as Frank looked him in the eyes and with such great relief, such spectacular hope, said: we’re almost there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't have much experience writing actions scenes so I hope I did alright! I'd originally written a much gorier and violent chapter but it left a bad taste in my mouth after rereading it. I want this to be scary but not disturbing so I rewrote it and toned it down quite a bit! I know a lot of people are into darker writing like that but I felt like it took away from the rest of the fic. 
> 
> And yes, I did write them dying their hair again. I'm a terrible offender for 2am emotional hair dye sessions so yes, I was projecting :P
> 
> There's one chapter left now :0


	9. A trillion legions of the damned and William

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Suicide and self harm warning for this chapter.
> 
> Here we go! Last chapter! For all of you that comment on each chapter and have stuck with me so far- I don't know what to say. Your support is incredibly kind and always brightens my day. Times are tough right now and you're all absolutely sunny!
> 
> I hope you enjoy this! 
> 
> PS I plan on starting the next fic in this series this week. If you leave a comment below I can comment back when I've uploaded it so you know it is there :)

Gerard Way was a lot of things. He was an art school dropout, he was creative, he was a recovering addict, he was thoughtful, he was a sometimes alcoholic, he was a brother, he was too sad for his age. 

He was also smart.

He’d read the page Lynz and Jamia had sent over a hundred times and had drawn the same conclusion they had. To restore life to a vampire someone had to die. 

It wasn’t just anyone either. It had to be someone who meant something. 

The ‘source’ had to supply the energy ‘completely and fully’ for the ‘sink’. The individuals had to have a ‘deep bond’. In the end there would be one human.

There was only one painfully clear way to interpret that. 

As the others filed inside he wanted to go upstairs with Frank to help him wash off his cuts- to say goodbye. But he didn’t. He didn’t deserve it. What he was going to do was going to hurt them, all of them, so he thought it best to start cutting ties immediately.

His eyes trailed Frank as he ascended the stairs with Ray. His mother had been given flowers once; she’d arranged them all nice in a crystal vase. She’d gone on a trip and asked Mikey and Gerard to take care of them. He watched as the petals began to fall and the leaves started to crack. The water became murky and viscous and mold started to grow on the stems. Spiders strung up webs across the crackling skeletons of former Morning Glories. This felt much the same.

Frank’s eyes met his and the ghost of a smile, the ghost of a we’re-almost-there, the ghost of so many things that only Gerard knew wouldn’t happen, lingered on his lips. Gerard couldn’t do anything but drop his gaze.

“What aren’t you telling them?”

He jumped as Mikey leaned on the wall next to him.

He always saw too much, knew too much. 

“Nothing.”

“Nothing is always something with you.”

“Nothing is nothing.”

“Fuck off Gerard. Ray and Frank are bleeding their fucking guts out in the upstairs bathroom and we just got attacked by hundreds of energy vampires.” He eyed the fax machine. “And we’re _supposed_ to be getting the cure any minute. _Nothing_ is further from the truth than we are from the stars.”

Gerard barely heard him talking. It didn’t matter. He had a plan. And it was going to work. He was going to save Mikey- fix what he did.

“Get your bag and come to Frank’s car.” 

“Gerard what are-”

“ _Mikey_ ,” his voice cracked, “please.” He cried, although he didn’t know why, when his mother came home and threw out the rotting flowers with a scowl of disapproval. He understands now.

He had to make him agree. He had to keep him safe. He had to fix what he did. And he could.

He just had to get Mikey to come with him. Frank and Ray couldn’t be there- they would stop him.

He could turn Mikey back into a human- and it would cost so little. Just Gerard’s life. Just the exact price he always deserved to pay. 

Mikey’s eyes drifted up the stairs. He thought of Frank and Ray. Would he really abandon them with no explanation? In any circumstance- no. Well, _almost,_ any circumstance. Because right now Gerard was looking at him with that same look he used to wear all the time. It was all velvet apologies draped over something much sharper. It said it wouldn’t happen again in the same way a wheel promised not to spin. It was black, blue and Ophelia all over-that look. The one he wore when he almost drowned in a swimming pool after drinking too much. The one he wore when he fell down two flights of stairs at school after doing coke in the bathroom. The one, Mikey presumes, he wore the night he killed himself.

“You always wanted to go on a road trip”. His eyes were wide as he pleaded in hushed tones with his brother.

“Not like this.” Mikey sighed and picked up his bag. 

\------

They’d been silent the entire ride to the motel. 

He knew Mikey was freaked out in only the way an older sibling could tell. His jaw was set and he kept taking his glasses off to clean them. 

He was also relieved. Relieved that Gerard had included him. That he hadn’t run away by himself to do god knows what. This way he could protect him. Keep him safe.

That didn’t mean it didn’t hurt though. He imaged Frank’s face when he realized what happened. Imagined _Ray’s_.

What even had happened? Gerard hadn’t said a word about his plan. The best Mikey could figure was that Lynz and Jamia had sent the cure over and Gerard had seen it before anyone else and taken it. And it had scared him.

He took off his glasses to clean them again.

He folded his legs up on the shitty motel bed as Gerard started unpacking the herbs from his bag.

“So, what the hell are we doing?”

Gerard pulled at his cuticles and tugged at his hair. 

“Look, we need to do this alone. Lynz left a note on the cure. She said it would be too powerful to do around humans- it would hurt them.”

“Why didn’t you just _tell_ them that then?”

“Do you really think Ray and Frank would listen to that? That they wouldn’t insist on being here? They’re safe in the house with the salt ring right now. They have Ray’s car if they need to leave. We’ll finish the cure here and then, when we know for sure that it worked, we can go back.”

“I’ll text- let them know we’re okay-”

“No- just- _fuck-_ wait until after we do it. Okay?”

Mikey sighed. He knew his brother well. While it sounded insane it was so very _Gerard_ to want to run away for the hard part and to return when everything was fixed- when it was all neat and tidy. 

And maybe that was the problem- how well he knew Gerard. He loved him. He idolized him in the way only a younger brother could. So it made sense. Of course he was trying to protect Ray and Frank! And sure, was he doing it in an annoying secretive way? Without a doubt! But that’s just how Gerard was.

And that’s why he took the cup of mashed up herbs and shimmering liquids and drank it without a second thought while Gerard drank his. That’s why he never asked why his looked a bit different than Gerard’s (it was the Rose by the way- only the source eats Rose petals). That’s why he lied down on the bed and closed his eyes. That’s why he never asked to see the cure- to see Lynz’ note. That’s why he didn’t think twice about the bathroom door clicking shut.

There was something Mikey had always liked about motels. Maybe it was the seedy connotation of them. Maybe it was that neon _Vacancy_ sign that drew him in like a moth. Or maybe it was the way he got to play pretend. The rooms themselves held all the trappings of a bedroom. Of something homey. But it wasn’t quite right; like a dog with too many eyes or a clock that ticked too fast. There were blankets but they were always stiff with starch. Walls to offer privacy but you could hear everything around you. Picture frames with landscapes no one had ever seen. And you could fake it while you were there as well- pretend everything was normal. Call your family if you want (don't forget the long distance fee!). Want to pray? Here’s a bible- we hope you worship the same god we do! Time to go to sleep! But it’s not dark yet! But it’s not dark yet! But it’s not dark yet!

Outside Gerard and Mikey’s motel nightfall came. The _No Vacancy_ sign outside the window lit up their room all tangerine and red.

\------

** Author’s note: I cannot stress enough how much you need to start playing Perfect Day by lou reed right now. Like please…. please , please, please do it!

\------

Gerard didn’t know if it would be loud. If he would yell. He thinks he just laughed the first time.

He set down the razor blade and walked out of the bathroom.

Mikey was laying on the bed looking a bit out of it. He offered him a weak smile. It was returned. 

He jammed a CD he’d taken from the car into the stereo and walked back to the bathroom. He locked the door.

No use disturbing the other guests.

Lou Reed played over the stereo.

He picked the razor blade back up and pushed up his sleeves. Didn’t want the fabric getting in the way.

All he had to do was kill himself. Easy. Kill himself and then Mikey could be human again. His energy, his life force, would transfer to Mikey and it would heal his undead soul, the mix of herbs marked their souls, letting the energy know where to go. It would work. It had to. The cure promised. _It promised._

He wished then, that he’d lingered at the doorway for a second longer. At the threshold of the house where him and Frank had first met. Wished he’d talked to Mikey on the way over. Wished he’d made tea with Ray one last time. Wished he’d drawn the comic book he was always talking about. Wished he’d visited his parents’ graves more often. Wished he could go to a cafe and write for a while. Wished he could watch horror movies with his friends. Wished he could sleep in one last time. Wished he could. Wished he could. Wished he could. Wished he could. Wished he could. Wished he could. Wished he could. Wished he could. Wished he could. 

Wished he could live.

He dropped the razor.

More than anything he wanted to make it right. Mikey had only gotten himself turned because of Gerard so Gerard _owed_ it to him to let him be human again. Let him live again. 

But was this the way to do it?

He remembered what Frank said in the trailer. It wasn’t brave. It wasn’t poetic. It was just sad. He couldn’t do it- hurt Mikey like that again. But it was more than that. He didn’t need to live because dying would make everyone sad. No, he _wanted_ to live. Whatever that meant for him. Sure, he was probably going to be a fucking burnout for a bit. Not have a job. He was probably going to be sad sometimes too. But that was okay. That’s what living was. It was sad and awful and kind and spectacular and lonely and strange. 

They could do it- find another way. He could do it with his friends’ help.

He reached for the doorknob and collapsed onto the tile floor.

And then it hit him. Oh. _Oh._

The cure didn’t need him to do fucking anything. He didn’t need to slit his wrists. It was going to do the heavy lifting for him; it was going to kill him.

Did the dead dream of life like this? He didn’t want to be missed; he wanted to be loved. And now he had to tell the angels he was coming home- that he was too sad to be alone. It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fucking fair! There were things he wanted to do. People he wanted to love. Situations he wanted to fuck up and flowers he wanted to buy. God couldn’t save him, Mikey couldn’t save him, fire couldn’t save him and neither could redemption. Because he’d done this to himself. He ran away from his friends and he lied and he didn’t think it through.

Now he was going to die.

And it was the worst then, as he lay on the bathroom floor, unable to move, because he didn’t _want_ to die. 

A tentative voice prodded at him. It felt like it was a million miles away, not the other side of a door.

“Gerard?”

He tried to talk, to call out, to do fucking anything but he couldn’t.

“Gerard!” 

The banging on the door grew louder. More violent.

“I saw the cure on the bed! I read Lynz’ _real_ note! Gerard let me in!”

He could hear Mikey crying now as the door rattled in its frame.

That was the last thing he really remembered. Mikey screaming his name, crying, and a terrible screech as the lock finally gave way. 

His eyes closed.

Since he was seven Mikey had prepared himself for the distinct likelihood of seeing his brother dead. He was older than him, after all, which meant that Gerard would die first. He’d figured this out at his Grandfather’s funeral while sitting with his Grandmother. She was three years younger than him. So it made sense.

But as he and Gerard had gotten older, more insidious reasons kept him up at night. When Gerard first got his driver’s licence he was terrified Gerard would die in a car crash. Then he started drinking and taking pills. Not that those equated suicide. But for Gerard those things very much went hand in hand. So Mikey started flinching when he opened the bathroom door in the morning- expecting to find his brother’s body inside. He started waiting on the porch for Gerard to get home at night- stumbling up the street and usually falling on his way. Texted him a thousand times when he didn’t answer.

So this shouldn’t have been a shock.

Gerard on the bathroom floor with his eyes closed.

But it _was._ Because it was his brother. Because Gerard was a fucking person with hopes who laughed at dumb jokes and read too many comic books. A person who daydreamed and sang in the shower. A person who always let his coffee get cold before he remembered to drink it. A person. _A fucking person!_

He reached out to touch his face and fell to the floor.

\------

Mikey woke up.

He felt warm.

\-----

*** Author’s note: if you’ve indulged me so far pls play Susanne by Weezer here :)

Chapter 9: Part Two: You don’t understand, we don’t hold hands

Frank pulled the green polo over his head and watched as the Music City logo was covered up by suds in the washer. Sunlight filtered in, illuminating the dust in the air. He walked barefoot on the carpeted floor back to his room, letting his fingers glide over the ridges of the wood panelled walls as he went. 

It wasn’t nice, the tiny house in the shitty part of the suburbs he and Ray rented. But it was cheap and the commute to their soul crushing place of employment, Music City, wasn’t too long. Frank didn’t know how they had managed to make music boring but by god they’d done it. He moved through a corporate stamped script of a greeting with every customer and every morning he started the corporate provided CD of the day. Every day he wore his corporate polo shirt and watched Ray teach the corporate provided curriculum to kids trying to learn guitar. Half way through the day he and Ray would go out back and smoke a very much not corporate approved joint. 

The pay wasn’t great but it wasn’t bad either. He’d reconnected with some old friends and went to basement shows every weekend. He had been on a few dates, although, none of them had gone anywhere. Jamia and Lynz came over for coffee sometimes. He called his mom once a week and had dinner there on Sundays. Ray’s sister got a dog (Latte) and she would bring him over for visits. Frank wouldn’t lie, he usually ignored Ray and Ella the entire time and played with Latte.

Things weren’t great but they weren’t bad either. His eyes caught on the graphite portrait of Sweet Pea he’d tacked up in his room next to a copy of the photo Ray had taken of the four of them. They looked happy.

That had been four months ago now.

They thought it had been the energy vampires at first. That they’d found a way through the salt ring and had done something to Gerard and Mikey. But then Frank noticed his car was gone. He noticed the fax machine’s little green light was lit up next to the text _Received_ but there was no paper there. Ray’s phone buzzed with a text from Mikey. It just said _Sorry_.

Frank wanted to burn the house down, he wanted to punch something, he wanted to scream and scream and scream. 

Ray on the other hand, was still trying to make sure they didn’t die. 

A tidy version of the events that followed entailed scrubbing as much of their blood from the place as they could, putting their bags in Ray’s car, and driving away. In reality there was a lot more yelling and them bandaging eachother up and swearing. They both wanted to stay, to wait, to see if Mikey and Gerard would come back. But deep down they both knew they wouldn’t. The hoards of energy vampires waiting outside the salt ring didn’t help either. 

They drove back to town silently and found the nearest hospital. Four days and many dodged questions later they were both discharged.

Jamia had called him, three days later, and asked how the cure went. He told her Gerard and Mikey had taken it and left. That he and Ray were in the city now; that they’d had no choice but to leave with the energy vampires closing in. He could hear Lynz swear on the other end of the line. She told him they’d written a note saying it wasn’t safe on the translated document they sent back. She offered no explanation of what _not safe_ meant. 

They found a place to rent and both got jobs. 

His car appeared in the driveway two nights later. There was no note inside, no clues, no explanation. Frank would know, he tore up the fucking upholstery looking for one.

A day later a government commission ended up making an offer on Frank’s grandma’s house. They wanted to tear it down and quarantine off the forest for ‘undisclosed reasons’. Frank was more than happy to accept. 

He cried a lot. He probably jacked off in the shower too much. He flinched whenever there was an odd creak in the house. He missed Sweet Pea. He kept the baseball bat in his closet. He thought about Gerard every night.

Frank pulled himself out of his thoughts, changed into jeans and a t shirt and pulled on some socks before sauntering over to the kitchen to join Ray. 

He slid a beer over to him.

“Do you ever think it was a dream sometimes?”

“Do I think what was a dream?” Ray liked to talk about it more than he did. He liked to pretend it never happened. Because it couldn’t possibly be fucking real. Because then it just hurt.

Ray cut him a look. Frank sighed. It was probably a good thing he had a best friend who wouldn’t put up with his bullshit.

“Honestly, I have no idea what it was. I miss them though.” The last part was quieter, barely a whisper.

“Me too. I’ve never said but I’m sorry about you and Gerard. You guys really seemed happy. Whatever that was you had.”

Frank shrugged.

“I guess it was really nothing.”

They continued talking as the late evening sun shone down on them from the kitchen windows.

They both flinched as the doorbell sounded.

Old habits and all that.

Frank opened the door. His head fizzed up like it was filled with helium and he froze to the spot. He wondered if this is what forever felt like if it was crammed into one minute. He wondered if this is how Caesar felt after the first knife buried itself in his guts. He wondered if the saints knew, and the angels knew, and all those motherfuckers who went to church knew what a _real_ sin was. He wondered if there was such a thing as basement eyes and if he had them or not. He wondered if this is what it felt like to break into a million pieces without reason.

Because there, in his doorway, were Mikey and Gerard.

“Hi Frankie.” 

“You motherfucker!”

Frank would later think how strange it was that the sun was shining on Gerard and Mikey but Gerard still had his fangs. Frank would also later note how cold Gerard’s skin was. He knew this, of course, because he just punched him in the face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I originally wrote this series to be purely self indulgent so the fact other people enjoy it makes me so happy!
> 
> If you have any suggestions or things you'd like to see in the next fic pls comment down below!

**Author's Note:**

> I will genuinely love you forever if you comment <3
> 
> My tumblr is @patron-saint if you want to interact.


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